Sole Victor
by StarPotterTwilightHunger
Summary: What if Katniss Everdeen was the only District 12 victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games? Bigger yet, what if Peeta was never chosen in the first place? This is told entirely from the Boy with the Bread's perspective. 30,700 over 50 pages in a word document - Oy! If that doesn't tell you to review, nothing will! Warning: Unconsensual sexual content in one chapter! And please: enjoy
1. Chapter 1: 74th Reaping

**Chapter 1: 74** **th** **Reaping**

I hate Reaping Day. By now, I know the drill, having escaped being selected for death four times already. But that doesn't make the tradition any less hard.

When my family and I arrive in the District Square, my brother Rye and I – the only ones in our family still eligible to be Reaped –register with the Peacekeepers. As we part at our respective age groups, I clap him on the shoulder. Get through today without being called, and he'll be free from the Reaping Bowl forever. Including today, I have three more to get through, but I've survived four previously, so the odds are in my favor right?

As I make to stand with the 16-year-old boys, I see _her_. Across the dividing aisle. In a pretty blue dress, her flowing brown hair pulled up in a single braid, Katniss Everdeen would not, at first glance, be seen as my peer. Maybe it's the makeup that accentuates her alabaster skin, her round face, luminous green eyes and full lips…..

I try not to stare, especially when I see her hug Prim, the little sister who I hear she loves more than her own life. _Do you know?_ I will my thoughts to ask her. _Do you know much I love you, even if I've never shown it?_ One of these days I will, though. I dream of us meeting by happenstance, talking and then becoming friends. And eventually one day, I imagine taking her into a deserted stairwell in school, dream of kissing her until she is gasping for breath; I dream of taking her myself, perhaps even her virginity until I feel myself cum in my sleep from such a wet dream.

So consumed by my daydreams am I that I realize I have completely tuned out the entire opening spiel about the Dark Days, and even the reading of Past Hunger Games Victors for our district. Doesn't matter. The Dark Days bit is standard procedure, rote and boring as hell. The PHGV Reading, as it's known in shorthand, is not always, though. This year proves to be interesting as I look to see Peacekeepers carry a passed out Haymitch Abernathy – our only living victor out of a pitiful two in 73 years – away on a stretcher. He must have tumbled off the stage again. I feel bad to have missed it. Even if he makes an ass of himself in front of the entire nation every year, Haymitch is at least good for a laugh.

Our escort, who looks brand new and is introduced as Effie Trinket by the Mayor, then turns to select the female tribute. I find Katniss in the crowd and will my thoughts: _Please, please don't pick her_.

She isn't. But she comes close. Unfortunately, for me, close is enough to send my world spiraling out of control.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

Some in the crowd audibly groan as a petrified Prim emerges from their midst after a moment. A 12-year-old is never a good omen for any District; no one that young has won the Games. Ever. It's as guaranteed a death sentence as you can get in the arena.

But Primrose's terror is quickly dwarfed by that of her sister, who now emerges out of her area unbidden.

"Prim!" she croaks. The little girl doesn't hear. "Prim!" Peacekeepers move into to cut her off and I am just about to risk harm to protect my secret love when she, panicked, screams the words that shatter any hope of a future with her.

"I volunteer! I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

In complete contrast to me, Effie Trinket looks like she is about to wet herself with joy. A volunteer, and from an outlying District? This will be headline news across Panem in a matter of minutes!

"Wonderful!" she cries, and beckons Katniss to the stage. Prim, screaming and wailing, has to be dragged off by a tall, dark-haired boy: Gale Hawthorne, who I know is probably Katniss's only certain friend. I try not to let the jealousy I have for him consume me. He's at least helping to spare the little girl. Some of the boys around me sigh in relief. It is never easy to see a 12-year-old sent to their death.

I barely hear Katniss echo her name into the microphone. "Well, I bet my hat that was your sister!" Effie trills. I fight the urge to snort. Yeah, no shit. Really, are all Capitol citizens this…. vauge?

"And now for the boys!" Effie reaches into the Reaping Ball and I hold my breath.

"Gale Hawthorne!"

If Prim's reaping and Katniss's sacrifice shocked the District, Gale's name nearly makes the people from the Seam area come unglued. I hear whispers from a few rows behind me: Who will get us fresh game now?, they ask. It is well known that Katniss began hunting to feed her family after her father died in a mining accident several years back. When she teamed up with Gale – in a predicament similar to hers – they began selling their catches in the Hob – the technically-illegal black market in town.

Gale has yet to come forward, and a desperate thought suddenly hits me: what if I volunteered in Gale's place? If they went into the arena together, who knows what might happen? They are probably secretly in love, which makes this even worse, most of all for me. Then I see Rye staring at me intently. He has a look on his face that clearly screams _Don't you dare_.

I hold my tongue and now it's too late, Gale has mounted the stage. Effie makes the best friends-or-whatever-they-are shake hands before they are escorted into the Justice Building.


	2. Chapter 2: Saying Goodbye

**Chapter 2: Saying Goodbye**

The crowd has barely begun to rouse themselves before I am rushing to the doors, ignoring Rye's calls of my name. They only let a limited number of people visit, and unlike in most years, many may flood the doors to wish luck to Katniss and Gale, heroes in the Seam. I am one of the first ones to the doors and they let me in after I say that I'm a friend of Katniss Everdeen. It's a stretch of the truth, at best. We only interacted once and it was years ago. But the Peacekeepers let me in.

I bypass a guarded room that must house Gale, because his mother and three siblings are waiting outside to be administered. I can't help but feel a strong hope that he does not come back alive, and Katniss does. Maybe it is better if he goes. If Katniss wins, he'll at least be out of the way. My smugness is pricked by a twinge of shame. I should not wish the arena on anyone – not even those who I might show animosity towards.

Guards are in front of Katniss's room. A Peacekeeper halts me even though I am just pausing to wait in front of him.

"Her mother and sister are in there with her. Be a few minutes."

I stifle my impatience. I dare not talk back to a Peacekeeper. But what does he think I'm going to do? Storm the gates? Even if the rules are hell at this point, I at least have the good sense to follow them.

After about five minutes, other guards are let in to take the Everdeens out. OK. I might have five to ten minutes to talk to the girl of my dreams, for the first and possibly for the last time. Whatever I say, I have to make it count.

A guard ushers me in and there I see her. She is sitting on the cushioned ledge by the window. She does not cry. In fact, she looks resolute. I have to admire her for that. Finally, she glances up and her eyes widen slightly.

"What are you doing here?" she asks. I tamper down any nerves I have and get out an answer; my precious minutes with her are already ticking away.

"I had to see you," I say. "I'm sorry this happened."

She shrugs. "It's not your fault," she mumbles.

There's a moment of silence before she gets out, "I never got to thank you. For the bread."

The bread. The bread that I burnt on purpose and took a beating from my mother to give to her, starving at only eleven years old. I shrug.

"Don't mention it. It's the least I could do."

I see her almost crack something like a smile, relieved that I at least know what she is talking about. It reminds me of something.

"Prim won't starve," I vow. "Neither will your mother. I can sneak them cookies or something incrementally, without Mom noticing. Should keep them up through at least the Games. I'll make sure they're eating."

Katniss nods. "Your dad said that earlier."

Well, this is news. My dad was here? Why would he visit Katniss? I make a mental note to ask him about it later. I am startled when I suddenly feel warmth on my hand. Katniss has taken it in her own and given it a squeeze. When I look into her eyes, they are swimming with tears.

"Thank you," she gets out.

Again I wave her off. "You've helped feed half the District. I can at least feed your family."

I know my time is running short. _Tell her!_ my brain screams. _Tell her you love her!_

"Katniss, I…."

"Yes?" she asks, and her voice is strangely sweet.

My heart stops. My courage fails me. "Nothing." I can suddenly hear Peacekeepers approaching the door and I panic again. "Just do me a favor when you're in the arena?"

The door is opening. With the last courage I have, I swoop in and kiss her on the cheek. She jumps, startled.

"Stay alive for me," I gasp, as hands seize me and tear me away from her, probably for good.


	3. Chapter 3: District Square Viewing

**Chapter 3: District Square Viewing**

My father's presence is more welcome than I can possibly say the next morning, staving off my nightmares.

It's only small comfort when I remember that I am essentially still in one.

The Hunger Games are mandatory viewing throughout the whole district, for all districts. Absolutely no exceptions. To miss even one broadcast guarantees a beating from Peacekeepers, at the very least. They must be effective, for there has never been one for missing mandatory programming as long as I have been alive.

When my family joins the rest of the district in the square, a giant jumbotron TV screen blocks the main entrance to the Justice Building. The Mayor and his family are in the shade, leaning against the stone pillars.

Not so for the rest of us. We common people have to stand in the street, in the hot sun. I look around for Prim or her mother. In this dense crowd, there is little hope that I could spot them. A search for Gale Hawthorne's family proves fruitless as well.

These first few days will be unbearable, but not as much as the actual Games. The next week will show the tributes being prepared for the arena.

The live feed now shows each of the trains pulling into the Capitol, their tributes being guided through the throng of paparazzi. Since the Reapings are not broadcast to anyone outside of the other tributes, this is the first time I will get a real look at Katniss's competition. Only a few stick out in my mind. The boy from District 2 – I hear a commentator call him Cato – looks like he could rip apart a redwood tree with his bare hands. His district partner, Clove, has an unsettling glint in her eye. Same for a redheaded girl from 5.

I skim through the rest more quickly, sorting out who's a threat to my true love and who's not. The boy from 10 has a bad leg; he'll be killed in the Bloodbath. The boy from 11 is basically Cato with darker skin – hulking, menacing, muscular. His partner reminds me painfully of Prim. Then come Katniss and Gale themselves. I am not sure where to place the handsome Seam boy. I have to trust he will look after Katniss in the arena as an ally, but if they make it far enough…. I label him Neutral.

The next several hours are spent watching Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, our hosts, yakkety-yak about this tribute or that – all pointless gibberish to me. I can see other people around me shifting restlessly, but you are only allowed to leave the area if you really have to go to the bathroom. And if it's not an emergency, or all the Port-a-Pottys are taken? You hold it. Or piss your pants. Same difference.

When dusk finally falls, the coverage of the Chariot rides begins. It is a traditional presentation of the tributes to the President of Panem, with iterations of it even going back to times of some ancient country called Rome. The Career tributes from District 1, 2 and 4 are predictably the most well-crafted by their designers. They will get the most favor from sponsors.

And, no matter how much I will it otherwise, I know the winner of these Games will be one of them.

But I can still hope, especially when gasps and screams of delight make me focus on the screen again.

Katniss and Gale are on fire. Literally. But they aren't burning up into ash. Instead, they are positively glowing and by the time their chariot reaches the City Circle, the audience is chanting their names.

Yup. They'll get sponsors for sure after making such a splash. Maybe they could win after all…

* * *

I am relieved when we only have to attend viewings in the evening for the next four days. It will keep me rested to watch the actual stressful part: the arena. Nevertheless, during the ensuing days, Mom keeps us busy with orders, yelling at us if we don't bake something just right.

My thoughts are constantly on Katniss as I knead the dough in front of me. I wonder how she is doing now in Training? I try not to think of Gale, or what he might be doing. Frankly, I don't care about him. All I care about is Katniss.

In the evenings, Caesar and Claudius spread rumors about how the tributes are doing, what their chances will be. It's so boring, I wonder why we don't just have at least the next three days off entirely. Besides, things won't get interesting until the third evening when the tributes scores are broadcasted following their private sessions with the Gamemakers.

On the third night, I wait anxiously as Caesar reads off a name, then a number. All the Careers garner high scores of 9 or 10, on a scale of 1 to 12 total. Medium to low for the rest. Finally, we reach District 12.

"And now, we have the lovely Katniss Everdeen, with a score of….." Caesar blinks and peers closer at the paper, as if he has to believe what he is reading. "11."

11!

There is an audible gasp in the Square and a few people start applause that quickly dies out. I don't know whether I should feel elated or petrified. Katniss just got the highest Training Score ever! The Careers will target her, no question about it.

I am so worried about my love that I barely hear Gale's score of 10, putting him in the mix with the better Careers.

Sponsors will be peppering Twelve with gifts now. And maybe such high numbers will endear the Careers to seek an alliance with the hunting pair. At least it would delay Katniss and Gale being on their kill list. But even if they did, I doubt Katniss would take the offer. She's too proud and too true to herself. She would not stoop to mixing in with the Careers, who illegally train for the Games from practically birth.

The next night is the final night before the arena. This will be the tribute interviews with Caesar Flickerman.

Like the unloading of the trains, only a few tributes really stand out to me. The girl from District 1, Glimmer, is the stereotypical blonde ditz, right down to the annoying giggle. Her performance makes me reconsider where to put her on my Threat to Katniss Meter, until I remember that, live Barbie Doll or not, she's a Career and therefore a threat. Besides, this could very well be a fake angle to throw the other tributes off their game. That's how a girl from 7, Johanna Mason, won a few years back. She pretended to be a total weakling until the Final 8 before she turned on her remaining competitors with an axe and chilling ferocity.

Cato, meanwhile, is going for arrogant. Both Clove and the redhead from 5 sly and cunning. Thresh rarely gives anything beyond one-word answers, and his partner – Rue – draws pity from the audience, even if her age pretty much sentences her to death.

Then it's District 12's turn. My jaw hits the floor when I see Katniss walk out in a strapless red gown. She looks gorgeous and I feel my pants tighten. The red of her dress is so bright, it looks like it might burn right off her.

Then, in the middle of her interview, it does. She twirls around in a circle, and the flames lick up the hem of her dress, Caesar clapping in delight. By the time her buzzer sounds, the audience is calling her Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire.

Gale is last of all. For Katniss's sake, I try to act polite and listen to him, though it's hard. He tells of his close friendship with Katniss, even going so far as to promising he will get her out alive, and I am comforted that it appears he will remain loyal to his hunting buddy in the arena. I feel my stomach clench as I fear that Caesar might try and ask if there is more to Katniss and Gale's friendship, to boost ratings, but he doesn't, instead changing the subject. By the time Gale is through, I can tell his looks alone might make some sponsors interested in him.

When I fall asleep that night, I feel a little bit better about the possibilities of tomorrow's start of the Games, but not by much.


	4. Chapter 4: Life Flash Before You

**Chapter 4: Life Flash Before You**

I take my own sweet time getting dressed the next morning, until Mom is banging on my bedroom door for me to come downstairs NOW!

We reach the Square just before 10:00 AM, when the Games will start. Until that time, I continue to think of Katniss, wishing I could talk with her just one more time.

All too soon, the clock strikes 10:00 and the jumbotron instantly goes live. Cheers can be heard projected from the Capitol audience as we watch the tributes rise into the arena.

At first sight of it, my heart lightens. It's a dense forest, broken only by a Meadow housing the giant metal horn known as the Cornucopia, which the tribute pedestals circle. This is too perfect. Katniss has been in the forests of Twelve her entire life. She really can win! Especially in this environment. It's practically her home turf.

I spot Katniss on screen and see her staring at the pile of supplies and weapons. I catch glimpse of a bow, somewhat deep into the scattering of supplies and feel fear grip me again. _Don't go for it_ , I will Katniss. _The Bloodbath isn't for you. Run, get away!_

The cameras show Katniss looking to her right and two pedestals down is Gale; he gives her an almost imperceptible nod of his head, and I inwardly curse. They're both going to go for it. Those bows will give them an enormous advantage…. but are they really worth the risk?

I will soon find out as the gong sounds and the tributes spring off their pedestals. Katniss is a blur as she sprints to the pile that houses two bows and she gets there first, Gale hot on her heels. They are about to flee when I see Clove charging them, already armed with throwing knives. I want to scream at them both to run for it, except outbursts are not allowed. We all have to watch silently and numbly. Only the Capitol gets the privilege of screaming for their favorites because, after all, even the Peacekeepers know any pleasure received from the Games is meant for them and not us. Not the Districts.

My heart stops as Clove hurls a knife, desperately trying to take out the stiffest competition before they can get on their feet. _I guess that answers my question on the possibility of an alliance, then._ Katniss brings up the backpack she grabbed quickly and the knife lodges into it. Both she and Gale turn tail and sprint away, Clove flinging another knife that now lodges in Gale's backpack. I can hear her screaming in frustration as the District 12 tributes get out of range, reaching the edge of the trees and safety.

I let out a breath. Those knives hit too close to home, even for me. I begin to ponder if Clove never misses her target, and absolutely hope against hope I will never find out the answer.

Katniss and Gale head deep into the trees, only slowing to a walk when the cannons begin, signaling the end of the Bloodbath. The Games' first burst of violence has wiped out nearly half the competition – 11 tributes in all. I'd feel better if I didn't know that those 11 were all the weaker timber, so to speak. With only occasional exceptions, only those with the highest training scores last past the first day.

Gale and Katniss pause to rest and chit chat, as if they are trying to trick themselves into thinking they are just on another one of their hunts. It's a good strategy and might make them kill passing tributes that much more easily. A snare is fixed and a rabbit soon wanders into it, which they eat raw. Good. Smart not to start a fire in the rapidly fading light.

Both Katniss and Gale then climb a tree to sleep for the night – another brilliant idea. Height will give them an advantage in the form of relative safety. Soon after, the Panem anthem begins to play, projecting the images of the dead tributes into the sky.

The girl from 3. The boy from 4 – he looked to be only 12 and was clearly the weakest of the Careers; I had him labeled as Not a Threat. The boy from 5. Both from 6 and 7. The boy from 8. Both from 9. The girl from 10. That's it.

I sigh. Yup, most of the dead wood, is gone, all right. But not without twists. For example, the deaths of the District 7 tributes comes as something of a surprise; they have more Victors than most other districts, though not as many as the Careers. I am flabbergasted that the District 10 boy got out of there alive with his bad leg, but figure his luck will run out quickly. I backtrack to the boy from 3 and remember he had a forgettable score. He might go fast, too. That leaves nine real contenders: the five living Careers, Katniss and Gale, and maybe two other lucky souls.

Make that one lucky soul. Not too far from where Katniss and Gale sleep, I see the glow of a fire. I want to strangle the idiot who thinks they can just start a fire in the middle of the night and so close to my sweetheart. Thankfully, I don't have to. I'm not in the Games.

But the Careers are.

We hear them before we see them, crashing through the trees and hooting and hollering all the way. Soon enough, I hear screams – a girl – which thankfully alert Katniss and Gale even as the poor thing begs for mercy. Someone quickly gives it – with a sword through the heart. The cameras can't make out who in the backlight of the fire.

"Twelve down, eleven to go!" someone hollers – I think it's that Marvel kid from District 1. There are cheers and high fives.

I wheel back through who is dead and who lives. Out of the girls still left in the arena, there are the three female Careers and Katniss, who I rule out obviously. The girl's scream was not high-pitched enough to be young Rue. That leaves…. The girl from 8. Good. She was dead wood; I had her labeled as a Non-Threat.

Arguing shakes me out of my thoughts. It seems that the Careers are fighting over the dead tribute's backpack. Cato shuts them all up.

"We have bigger fish to fry – namely District 12! You sure they went this way, Marvel?"

"Yeah."

The Careers stalk right past Katniss and Gale's tree before moving deeper into the forest, Cato muttering something about getting dibs on Katniss. I shudder in terror. The cannon for the District 8 girl sounds belatedly.

Thankfully, Katniss and Gale heard everything. At least they know they are being hunted. Maybe it will give them time to prepare.

Coverage ends just after midnight and we are ordered to return to our homes. I fall into bed, dreaming that I can hold Katniss in my arms.


	5. Chapter 5: Run or Get Run Over

**Chapter 5: Run or Get Run Over**

I am the first one to the table for breakfast and eat in record time before rushing out the door to get to the Square, nervous as a cat. I barely notice Dad give my Mom a knowing smile, but she merely harrumphs and mumbles under her breath.

"Actually _excited_ to watch the Games?... That Seam girl will break his heart if she gets out alive…."

I ignore her.

This routine continues until Day 5 of the Games. By that time, no new deaths have occurred, which I am both relieved and disappointed about, for different reasons. The cameras seem to be giving Katniss and Gale lots of coverage, clearly enjoying their playful banter. I again try to quash fear that the Gamemakers will manipulate them into some kind of romantic relationship for more dramatic effect.

The two hunters are just setting some traps when there is a whoosh and a tree feet away from them bursts into flames. Gale stares for a moment, but seems to understand before Katniss does.

"Catnip," he swallows. "Run."

The pair takes off side-by-side through the trees, fireballs – clearly a Gamemaker trap – raining down and all around them. My heart is on its own little roller-coaster ride, leaping at every burst of flame that shoots towards them, plunging back to a briefly normal heart rate at every miss before the whole damn sensation starts all over again. Just as I start to get somewhat complacent in this game of cat-and-mouse, a fireball just barely misses its mark, but it's enough to singe Katniss. She cries in pain and my heart stops. _Please don't let her die from that_ , I silently beg.

At last, the cursed flames stop, leaving the District 12 tributes to rest by a river. Gale tries to help Katniss cool the burn mark on her calf. Their reprieve doesn't last long, though, and my heart turns to stone when I hear very familiar whoops and shouts. Shit! The Careers have spotted them. Gale hustles Katniss to a nearby tree and they hastily begin to climb. I will them to go higher, higher, higher still, ignoring the Careers taunts, particularly the sexual ones from Cato aimed at my love. I find myself snorting in actual amusement at these, though.

 _In your goddamn dreams, macho boy_ , I sneer. _Katniss wouldn't look twice at you, arena or not._

By the time the Careers have reached the base of the tree, circling it like a pack of wolves, Katniss and Gale are way out of reach, almost fifteen feet up by my estimation. All the same, they are trapped.

Naturally, Cato takes the lead in trying to bring them down, literally _and_ metaphorically. He simply tries to climb up after them, but barely gets off the ground before a branch cracks and sends him crashing back to Earth. He gets to his feet, swearing in ways that would make a District 4 sailor blush, and I can't help the laugh that escapes me. I quickly shut up when I see eyes staring at me as if I have three heads. Here, the Hunger Games are something to be mutely subjected to, not enjoyed. Besides, the policy is No Outbursts.

Glimmer takes over and I start when she whips out a bow. How the hell did she get her hands on one? I thought Gale and Katniss took them all! But I am relieved to discover that she is worth shit with the weapon, cementing her status in my mind as the Clueless Wonder Career. When it comes for their alliance to break, she'll be one of the first to die.

Glimmer's arrow shoots straight into the sky, not even getting close to either of its intended targets.

At the end of his rope, Marvel suggests they set up camp right below and wait to ambush Katniss and Gale when they come down searching for food. I have to believe both Twelve tributes are way to smart to risk that, but…. hunger and desperation can go a long way.

Everyone agrees, and Cato makes Marvel keep first watch, just so the former can reassert his authority as leader of the pack. This proves to be an error, though not fatal, as within an hour, Marvel has fallen asleep just like everyone else. He is even snoring. I snicker. Add him to the list of Careers to come out on the losing end. The real Career fight – if it comes to that – will be between district partners Cato and Clove.

Katniss and Gale are still awake in their tree, now looking frantically for a way out. Gale finally spies one: a nest of tracker jackers in a branch just next to them. I work out their plan even as they do so themselves. Drop the nest on the Careers and maybe get most of them, if not all in one.

So, slowly, quietly, carefully, Katniss and Gale takes turns sawing at the branch, using the knives they got off of Clove. Just as the Careers start to stir from their nap….

The nest falls right onto them, the tracker jackers exploding out of it in a fury and attacking the first humans they see. The Careers are awoken rudely, shouting and screaming as they make a mad dash for some body of water to relieve their stings and lose the insects. From their calls to each other, they seem to be heading for the lake by the Cornucopia.

In the confusion, Katniss and Gale are free to leap out of the tree. They start to run for it, when two cannons make them turn back.

Glimmer and the girl from District 4 have been claimed by the tracker jackers; both are now lying bloated in death.

"Gale, come on!" Katniss calls.

Gale makes a quick decision. "Not without that bow!" he vows, and runs to pry the extra weapon from Glimmer's dead grasp before the hovercrafts get to her.

It turns out to be an almost fatal mistake.

I nearly have a heart attack as I see Cato lumbering back through the trees, just as Gale is wrestling the bow away from Glimmer. With an angry roar, he charges at Gale; the Seam boy glances up, throws the bow backward to Katniss and whips out a sword he got off the District 4 girl just in time. Gale and Cato are surprisingly evenly matched as they duel; Gale must have learned fencing in training. Soon, however, Cato gets the upper hand and slices a gash through Gale's upper left thigh. He goes down.

"No!" Katniss cries, and Cato is just about to bring the sword down on Gale when she fires. Unfortunately, she misses, but she continues to rain arrows at him, which Cato now has to dodge. Growling in frustration, the Career retreats, letting Gale live…. for now.

Katniss helps Gale to his feet and supporting him, they shuffle as fast as they can through the forest. Despite his injury, Gale proves tough, making it several miles before he begs Katniss to rest. His timing turns out to be impeccable, for a cave is just off to their left, which they retreat into to hide.

Katniss then sets to work. I know her mother and Prim are the Healers of the family – injured miners or beaten townspeople are always brought to them – but nevertheless, she proves skilled in wrapping Gale's leg in a tourniquet, to stop the bleeding. Having healed themselves sufficiently until sponsors hopefully show some kindness, and with no tracker jacker stings, the District 12 tributes are free to rest.


	6. Chapter 6: The Spark of Creation

**Chapter 6: The Spark of Creation**

Three more days pass uneventfully in this way, with Katniss and Gale resting in their cave. Their…. dullness forces the cameras to pan to the other eight tributes, including Cato, Clove and Marvel nursing their wounds by the Cornucopia lake.

On the morning of the third day – Day 8 total, I have just arrived at the District Square for viewing when a cannon sounds. I frantically check the cameras and am overcome with relief when Caesar Flickerman helpfully informs us that the District 10 boy has succumbed to as-yet undisclosed injuries. Honestly, I am amazed he lasted as long as he did with such a bad leg. He might be the last of the dead wood, though. Once the Final 8 is determined – which will require just one more death – the Games will really get interesting.

Hearing the cannon in their cave, Katniss decides to go hunting and tells Gale to stay out of sight.

"You too," he warns, leaning back against the cool rock. "Don't go too far, Catnip." I am sure the audience is getting a chuckle out of his pet name for her as Katniss nods and slips out of the cave. She hunts for a while, but does not seem to take Gale's sound advice about not going too far. As much as I am envious of Gale, I want to scream at Katniss for seemingly disobeying his orders. Someone needs to talk to the Peacekeepers about that No Outbursts policy…..

I despise this rule even more when Katniss reaches the edge of the trees around the Meadow and Cornucopia. I now know her real intentions for going out. She wanted to spy on the Careers. Clever. I just hope she stays within the trees…..

Whatever supplies are left, the Careers have for some odd reason thrown together in one big pile. I stifle a smile. Are they really that stupid that they have no idea where everything is, so they just threw it all together? My mockery is interrupted when I see the District 3 boy eating right along with the Career pack. I had completely forgotten about him. How is he still alive; he was classified as dead wood! And it's a little late for alliances, isn't it?

Katniss is observing them when suddenly Cato shouts and points. I jump, thinking he has discovered my love. But no, there is another fire – a large one this time – blazing up near the mountainous ridges on the other side of the arena. I want to groan. Who are these tributes that think they can just start fires willy-nilly? I have been watching the Games long enough to know this is almost always a losing strategy. In setting a blaze in the middle of the night, the District 8 girl was idiotic. Whoever is making one in broad daylight must be an imbecile.

Cato leaves the District 3 boy to guard the supplies while he and the Careers take off towards the smoke signal. What a fool! District 3 is a scrawny little thing; they might as well be leaving the camp with no guard at all. Katniss could shoot him even at a distance and have her picking of supplies before they come back.

Yet she doesn't move. Why? She is staring at the pile intently, as if trying to figure something out. I follow her gaze and scrutinize the hoard. The way it's arranged…. it's almost as if….

"It's mined," Katniss whispers. The people around me gasp.

I grin widely, elated that she figured it out. "Atta girl, Katniss, baby!" I whisper. Hey, no one heard me, so technically, it's not an outburst. Right? But how can she get close enough to get supplies?

Suddenly, yards to her left, a figure appears out of the trees. It's the redhead from 5. She glances furtively around and then begins to hop and jump her way towards the supply pile in what almost looks like an interpretive dance.

I study her closely, and I see Katniss is, too. Whatever, this girl's doing, she's done it before, and it makes me wonder just how long the supplies have been like this. The redhead reaches the pile, snatches a backpack and repeats her pattern perfectly in reverse before disappearing into the woods.

District 3 didn't notice a blessed thing, and I want to laugh.

Then I see Katniss make a decision. She takes out her bow, notches an arrow and takes aim at a sack of apples. Ripping through the fabric, the apples tumble to the ground.

KABOOOOMMMMM! Explosions ripple through the peaceful morning, their force flinging Katniss several feet back into the trees. When she comes to moments later, she thankfully does not look injured.

I begin to panic. I cannot see District 3, but surely he must be dead? Even if he is, the Careers had to have heard that and will be returning to camp at top speed. Doesn't matter, though. With one arrow, Katniss has just evened the playing field; without their supplies, Cato and the rest will be sitting ducks.

Indeed, Cato comes thundering into view on the other side of the clearing. The sight of him literally tearing his hair out and gnashing his teeth would be almost comical if it wasn't so frightening. And I pity District 3, who somehow miraculously survived the explosions. If I were him, I'd want to be dead.

I am proven right when Cato snaps the boy's neck in rage. A cannon sounds.

My eyes find Katniss, still struggling to her feet. _Get out of there_ , I silently urge her. _Get out of there!_ Recovered enough, she dashes silently into the trees and I exhale. Cato is a brute, but he's less of a dumbass than I thought. He'll deduce that this was probably Katniss's work and he won't rest until he has his revenge. I only can pray that he falls to someone else before he gets the chance.

* * *

Katniss wandered pretty far afield, so it takes her into the next day to start making her way back to her cave and Gale. I have some time to think. We are now down to the Final 8: Marvel, Cato, Clove, District 5 redhead, District 11 and District 12. I think I got that right. I'm amazed little Rue has made it this far. If the Games proceed as normal, though, her luck will run out soon.

As if on cue, a girl's scream pierces the air, not far from where Katniss now wanders. Katniss's eyes widen in fear and I want to yell at her all over again: _No! Leave her! She can't be helped! It's a trap!_

But Katniss goes anyway, soon stumbling upon little Rue trapped in a net. Using her knife from Clove, Katniss cuts her free and cuddles her close. I tense. _Katniss….. get out of there….._

"LOOK OUT!"

Several flashes of movement happen at once and I involuntarily yelp in terror. A cannon sounds and I watch the screen monkey cam dangerously. What the hell happened? Oh, God, please…..

When the camera closes in on Marvel, flat on his back with an arrow in his stomach, I want to cry with relief. She got him! Or did she?

An answer comes when I see Katniss rocking Rue in her lap, a spear in the younger girl's stomach. Rue is staring up at her with adoring eyes.

"I knew I'd find you eventually," she whispers. "I've been looking all over for you hoping to get in an alliance."

Katniss is trying and failing to hold back tears, and I know why. This little creature reminds her of Prim.

"I am your friend from now on," the huntress vows.

"The blowing up of the food….. was that you?"

Katniss nods.

"Good job. You _have_ to win," and I find it almost disturbing, the intensity in Rue's voice. She has one last request:

"Will you sing? My mother always sings me to sleep."

So Katniss does, and as I hear her sing the Meadow Song, I find myself falling head over heels, ass over tin cup, in love with her all over again, just like I did when I was five years old.

The cannon sounds, signaling Rue's death. Weeping bitterly, Katniss adorns her body in surrounding flowers, before kissing her temple and walking away. I only see a brief shot of Rue's body before the cameras abruptly cut away.

I frown. This might not be good. The Capitol may interpret Katniss's gesture as an act of rebellion, which in turn, could lead to punishment at the hands of the Gamemakers. I shake my head, foreboding gripping my heart. I don't know about this. I just don't know…..

Little do I realize, miles away in District 11, just how correct my hunch proves to be.


	7. Chapter 7: The Feast

**Chapter 7: The Feast**

If Gale is angry that Katniss disobeyed his orders when she returns to the cave, he doesn't show it. He seems rather impressed with her blowing up the Careers' supplies and that the Games have rapidly hurtled down into the Top Six.

On the twelfth day in the arena, Claudius Templesmith's voice booms out over an intercom:

"Attention, tributes, attention. Tomorrow at sunrise, there will be a feast at the Cornucopia. Each of you needs something: desperately. And we plan to be…. generous hosts."

Katniss reads between the lines faster than either Gale or myself. "Your medicine," she says to Gale.

"You're not going to go," Gale says sternly, and for the first time in my life, I find myself wanting to roar in approval at his words. _Yeah, Gale's right, don't go! Let Cato and Clove fight it out!_ Talking in your head is a convenient loophole to the No Outbursts rule.

Katniss seems thoroughly unimpressed by Gale's resoluteness as she gathers their bows anyway. "Yeah? Well, you need it, and you can't walk."

"Catnip…."

She rounds on him. "You would do it for me. Wouldn't you?"

Both hunters hold each other's gaze and for one mad moment, I think it might be sexual tension that they'd break with a kiss. Instead, Gale sighs.

"Fine. Just….. be careful. You got lucky the last time you went off the reservation."

I chuckle nervously at his words. For all his faults, Gale definitely has a sense of humor. I'm more frustrated at Katniss, though. God, she is stubborn. But then again, I always knew that; it's one of the things that makes her so attractive to me.

* * *

In the wee hours of the next morning, Katniss leaves for the Feast. By the time she reaches the treeline, the sun is just beginning to poke over the horizon, announcing the arena's thirteenth day. At precisely sunrise, a table rumbles right up out of the ground, holding four backpacks that are each marked with a district number: 2, 5, 11 and 12.

Katniss just begins to sprint for the table when she stops short. Out of the mouth of the Cornucopia itself runs none other than the RedHeaded Girl. She seizes the backpack marked 5 and dashes for the trees, in and out of there in less than a minute. I have to admit, it was an ingenious strategy.

But it has also cost my beloved valuable time. She hurtles for the table, realizing she needs to get Gale's medicine and get out of there before –

The knife appears before it's owner does, and Katniss barely manages to dodge it by ducking back behind the giant horn. She readies her bow, but can't get an arrow notched in time before Clove rushes her and tackles her. The girls desperately wrestle and kick and scream, and I want to do all of it right along with them, particularly to that Clove bitch. Clove finally pins Katniss underneath her and holds a knife to her throat.

"What? Did you think you would get that pack before your boyfriend does?"

Katniss grimaces defiantly, not giving up as she struggles to upend the evil girl before her. Clove reads into this.

"Oh, I see. You were going to help him, right? Aw, that's sweet. Sorry, Fire Girl, but you've failed – just like you failed to help with District 11. Oh, yeah, we killed her. What was her name? Rue?" At this, Katniss growls and flails more, enraged Clove would dare to say her name. "We killed her, and now…. we're going to kill you."

"No," I whisper in horror, wanting to cry.

WHAM! A black blur suddenly bulldozes Clove straight off of Katniss. Next second, I can see that the blur is actually Tresh, the boy from 11. Funny, I haven't seen the cameras even give one glimpse of him since the Games begin.

Now, the monstrous boy has Clove pinned to the Cornucopia. And he is _mad_.

"You said you killed her? I heard you!" he snaps, when Clove frantically tries to deny it. It's almost cruel how much I'm smiling now. Clove has run her mouth one too many times. And she knows it, too.

Unfortunately, so does Thresh.

"Cato! CATO!"

"You said her name! _You said her name!_ "

There is an ominous thudding noise as Thresh slams Clove repeatedly into the Cornucopia until he draws blood. He finally drops her limp body to the grass. I have no time for relief, however, as the dark boy whirls on Katniss.

But he does not attack, even as Katniss stares up at him with fear in her eyes for the first time in the whole Games. Thresh points to her.

"Just this time, Twelve! For Rue." And seizing his pack and the one now solely belonging to Cato, he disappears into the woods. Katniss wastes no time getting out of there herself, her own backpack now in hand.

I can't believe it. He actually let her go. More than that, he led Cato purposefully away from her by taking the second backpack.

I am overcome with gratitude at Thresh's mercy and at Katniss's safety. She got lucky again.

I only hope it never runs out until after she is the last tribute standing.


	8. Chapter 8: The Finale

**Chapter 8: The Finale**

The medicine works on Gale like a charm and soon his leg is healed. Over the next two days, all is quiet in the cave and in the arena. Then –

Over the span of less than 24 hours, Thresh and Redhead Girl appear in the sky.

Day 17 in the arena is Katniss and Gale's last in the cave. With Gale fully healed, they head out to find and confront Cato.

I am practically shaking. I am so close, so very close to getting Katniss back. But what happens if Cato is killed? It will come down to dear friends, district partners, battling for the crown. Such a Top Two outcome is rare in the Games, but it has happened before.

Just after midnight on the eighteenth day, all hell breaks loose.

Coverage is just about to be turned off for the night when mutts suddenly appear out of nowhere right behind the District 12 tributes.

"Run!" Katniss screams. She and Gale sprint blindly through the trees, and I am amazed the boy can keep pace with her even with his healing leg.

They burst out of the forest and into the Meadow. There's the Cornucopia glinting in the moonlight. Katniss gives Gale a boost to climb the great metal horn before pulling herself up, barely outrunning the mutts.

On top of the horn, they would seem safe. But they aren't for long.

Cato suddenly ambushes them, and as the furious climatic fight begins, I wonder if the exhausted Career has been lying in wait here for them all along. Cato tries to throw Katniss off the horn and feed her to the mutts, but Gale tackles him and the boys wrestle.

Suddenly, everything comes to an abrupt halt. A frozen tableau. Katniss has an arrow aimed squarely at Cato's head, who now has Gale in a deadly chokehold.

I had assumed that Cato managed to take down Thresh and possibly even Redhead, but I did not expect him to look so weak from the obvious effort it must have taken. It only reminds me that while the District 2 male is formidable, he is not superhuman.

I just never thought Cato was smart enough to realize it himself.

"Go on, little lady, shoot," he spits, almost weak from fatigue. "Then we both go down and you win." That reminder is enough to make Katniss pause, and I panic that this is a trick, a chance for Cato to find a way out.

But it appears that Cato doesn't _want_ a way out. That seems clear in what he says next.

"Go on," and I am amazed to hear that he seems to be almost begging my beloved to do him in. "I'm dead anyway." And it just gets stranger from there. Cato actually begins to laugh, though there is no mirth in it. Just…. sadness. "I always was, right? I didn't know that till now. I knew….. right from the beginning, that it was gonna end with me versus the two of you. Is that it? Is that what they want?" He yells it to the heavens, as if taunting the Gamemakers to do something.

I am gawking at the jumbotron now, so much so that I might catch flies. I vaguely wonder why the Capitol is not editing this out, Cato's words that could be construed as an act of rebellion. But this is the ending of the Hunger Games, and the audience expects a show.

Meanwhile, Katniss has gotten a hold of herself, aiming the arrow back at Cato. He notices her violent resurgence and laughs again, a goading one this time, all the while tightening his grip around Gale's neck. The Seam boy is gasping for air.

"No….."

"Nah….. I could still do this," and Cato seems to be trying to convince himself more than his last enemy, even the entire country that is now watching on silent, bated breath. "I could still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do. Bring pride to my district…."

As Cato continues to ramble on like a madman in an insane asylum, he doesn't notice Gale tap his index finger against the hand that holds him.

"Not that it matters," Cato postulates.

And there, in a delicious twist of irony, lies his downfall: a matter of simply not paying attention.

Katniss fires into his hand. The boy yowls in pain and Gale wrenches himself out of the chokehold.

But he can't get loose all the way. The two boys grapple with their arms, even as Cato flails, skirting dangerously close to the edge.

"Cato! NO!" Katniss screams.

Too late.

Both Cato and Gale plunge over the side, Katniss diving to seize her hunting partner in vain, down to the waiting mutts below.

Growls. The tearing of flesh. And screams. Horrible, hideous, _human_ screams.

Katniss curls into the fetal position and lies on the horn all through the night, sobbing and waiting for two cannons to sound, for her to be crowned Victor.

No one in the Square dares to move. We stay up all night, waiting for the result to be finalized, all the while in shock. A victor. After 24 years, District 12 will finally have a new Victor – the first female from 12 ever!

Not long after the sun rises – it is still the eighteenth day – all has grown quiet on this western front that is the Hunger Games arena. Katniss peers over the side and I can see the desire in her eyes to look away, but at the same time not.

The mutts are gone. All that remains are the mangled forms of her best friend and her last mortal enemy. One bloodied form raises what looks like its head and, though it's voice is weak, I immediately identify him as Cato. He says just one word:

"Please."

Katniss scrambles for her bow, for her last arrow. Lining up the shot, she drives the tip into Cato's skull. The cannon booms.

I let out a shaky breath. A mercy killing. Somehow I think it's what Katniss would have wanted all along, if given the choice. Though she is one step away from going home, I know she is not a killer. She is a sweet, caring, beautiful person – a little rough around the edges, maybe, but sweet, caring and beautiful nonetheless.

Katniss slides down the horn and approaches the only other moving thing in the arena.

Gale.

"Catnip….. you did it. You can go home."

She is crying, shaking her head No, but he refuses to listen.

"Take care of your mom and Prim. And…. promise me….. I know you said you didn't want kids, but….. find someone. Begin your life."

Katniss nods, blinking back tears. "I'll try, Gale."

"And, hey, if I could make a recommendation…. I nominate Peeta Mellark. He's a nice boy, and they may be just rumors, but I think he likes you."

Well. _This_ has got to be the most shocking twist in Games history. Just like that, I've been dropped into a story that I never really thought myself to be a part of. I can feel the entire district's eyes on me, and I just look at the gravel at my feet, as if my eyes could burn a hole underneath them and I could then drop and disappear, away from this world. A world in which the Capitol is now busily researching my name, my background, what I eat and where I sleep, probably with the search query 'Who the HELL is Peeta Mellark?' The whole thing is so absurd, so…. bizarre, I wouldn't be surprised if someone just starts giggling madly.

And then someone does. And with an aching heart, I realize it's coming from the jumbotron, from Katniss herself.

"Don't be silly," she chuckles. "But…. I'll consider it. For you."

My heart promptly shoots to the moon before stalling and then reversing right into the pits of hell as I see Katniss lean forward. I try to turn my eyes away, but too late; she kisses him on the lips.

Moments later, it is a bittersweet relief when his cannon fires.

Katniss begins to weep, and I surprise myself when I weep right along with her, grateful that Gale has essentially ceded Katniss to me; hell, he pointed her in my direction. I never knew he noticed or was that….. selfless…..

Claudius Templesmith's voice booms over the intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 74th Annual Hunger Games – Katniss Everdeen! I give you…. the female tribute from District 12!"

And that's when we all lose it.

There isn't a No Outburst rule to apply here, and the Peacekeepers probably couldn't even if they tried. I am jumping up and down, tears streaming down my face, screaming, "Yes! Yes! YES!" over and over again.

Katniss escaped the arena and fought to reach her own deliverance. A deliverance that will, if I can find it in me to fight just as hard, give me – give _us_ – a happily ever after.


	9. Chapter 9: Bread Delivery Man

**Chapter 9: Bread Delivery Man**

It is almost cruel, having to wait for Katniss to finish her Victory Celebration, her interviews, before finally being set free by the Capitol to return home to District 12.

The day the train pulls into the station, the crowd extends for blocks. People are standing on rooftops to get a good look at their district's first victor in almost a quarter century. When Katniss gets off the train, she is swamped, first by her family and the Hawthornes, and then everyone else. Unfortunately, I am in the latter group, and have to shove my way to the front. As Katniss's beautiful form draws closer and closer, the bold part of my brain keeps telling me, _Push her up against the steam engine and kiss her face off until she forgets her own name…._

* * *

 _***Katniss is only a few feet ahead of me now. I can't stand it any longer! As soon as she is within reach, I swoop her into my arms. She barely has time to look surprised and confused before I crush my lips to her in a long kiss. I feel Katniss's muscles grow rigid against me as she stiffens in my close embrace. And then, after a moment, her body goes limp again, slackens, as she swoons in my arms. Closing her eyes, her hands reach to gently frame my face and she kisses me back with heartfelt passion._

 _The dead silence that has taken over the station now reverses course, erupting into cheers of approval, mixed in with wolf whistles. I assertively raise Katniss's leg to my waist, then hoist her off her feet. We stagger back into the side of the train, still kissing_ _ferociously. I change tactics and break away to attack her neck. Katniss leans back into the train, her arms splayed across my back and her legs wrapped around my waist. Her eyes are wide, the pupils dilated with unmasked lust._

 _" **Peeta…..please…..just keep touching…..me…. just like that…..ooooooooo…** " I can tell she is incredibly turned on as I, now bracing her against the train, cup her perky breasts in my palms and knead them like the dough I've manipulated since before I could walk. _

_" **Nnnnn…gahhhhh…Ohhhhhhhh…** " Katniss's vocal cords shudder right along with the rest of her body, as she tries and fails to stop moaning like a shameless Capitol whore while I sexually attend to her, pleasure her. " **Peeta…..Peeta…..** " She is practically sobbing now over the touches I give her, as she croons my name like a chant. Before I know it, our lips pounce back on each other again, and we ignore the staring from the whole district. Let them watch! We new lovers are lost in our little world…..***_

* * *

None of this actually happens, of course. Tempting as it is, I cast aside these dirty thoughts as mere folly. Katniss and I know each other, but we aren't close.

Yet, you wouldn't know it, seeing as how when Katniss finally catches sight of me, she jostles through the crowd and throws her arms around me in a tight hug. I nearly faint with joy.

It takes a couple weeks, but eventually the media retreats from its latest victor, giving her some much needed privacy. Katniss, her mother and her sister move into the Victor's Village, right next door to Haymitch Abernathy. They have more money than God now, but considering the district citizenry still keeps swarming Katniss whenever she appears out in public, that new wealth doesn't do them much good in the way of going shopping for groceries.

Happily, that's where I come in.

When Dad catches wind that, in trying to get to the bakery, Katniss has been sidetracked by admirers at least twice, he has me deliver some bread to Victor's Village. Even better, Mom does not seem to know – or if she does, she doesn't care. It's business, so in her view, I am at least being productive and useful. Me? I am overjoyed.

I practically skip up to Victor's Village that first morning, arms full of bread. I even wave to Haymitch – out on his front porch throwing back a bottle – not minding that the drunk looks at me as though I am from another planet. Prim answers the door after a few knocks, and her eyes light up when she sees me.

"Yay! Bread!" Then, she calls inside: "Katniss! Delivery for you!"

Katniss stomps into view, mumbling something about why Prim just can't take the package herself, but pulls up short when she sees me. She shyly shifts from foot to foot. Despite this and her obvious bedhead, she looks a vision.

"Hey, Peeta."

"Good morning, Katniss!" I practically chirp. "I heard you guys were having trouble getting bread, so…." I present the loaves to her with an overly dramatic bow. "For you, madame. Enjoy!"

The tiniest of giggles escapes Katniss's lips – a rare, glorious sound.

"Oh, and then there's this." I pull out a tinfoil-covered pan and pull back the wrapping slightly. The fraction of a smile appears on Katniss's face.

"Cheese buns?"

"Your favorite, so I'm told."

"How did you know…?"

"Oh, I have my sources," and I give Prim a wink.

Katniss takes the pan and inhales deeply. There's that smile again. "Mmm…. Just like my father used to get for me. Thank you, Peeta." And I can tell she means it.

"You're welcome." I give both Everdeen daughters another playful bow. "Good day to you fine young women." I practically run home in delirious happiness.

* * *

This eventually becomes routine. Every couple of days, the Everdeens call into the bakery with a new order of bread, and I am always tasked with delivering it. It doesn't matter if I'm in the middle of another task – deliveries to Victor's Village become _my_ job; Rye and Leven have the good sense not to usurp that from me. Even Mom does not object as much as she normally might. And every couple of days, I get to see more and more of Katniss. Once she lets her guard down and opens up, she is actually quite pleasant and friendly. I always knew she was – this is the real Katniss, and I get to see it shine through. I'm also pleased that she now trusts me enough to let me into her inner circle of confidants – an elite group indeed that includes her mom, Prim, and more recently, Haymitch (probably to fill the void Gale left with his death). Speaking of Haymitch, my errands to Victor's Village soon enough expand to include him. He's drunk most of the time, which makes him cranky, but nonetheless he can be amusing in his own irritating way.

It is clear, however, that while my Mom might not voice any objections to my frequent errands to Victor's Village, she disapproves nonetheless. This is made painfully apparent one day when we have to brave the Hob and we run into Katniss making a trade. Katniss and I engage in small talk, not as open as we would be without my mother around, but she allows it. It's not until Katniss walks away, however, that Mom hisses to me, "I don't know why you bother with her, Peeta. She's just a Seam slut."

I am appalled. Even at her worst, my mother has never stooped this low. Then again, she must know I am hopelessly in love with the girl; perhaps she possesses that motherly fear that Katniss might one day take me away from her. Ha! Rye and Leven would get a kick out of that one, if I told them. No. I am done trying to rationalize her behavior.

"Excuse me?" I snap to my mom. It comes out a little louder than I intended – so loudly, in fact, that the whole Hob quiets until you could hear a pin drop. "Katniss might have been born in the Seam, Mother, but she is no slut, as you ludicrously say. She has pride enough to not go crawling between Cray's wrinkled legs, which tells you she at least has standards regarding penis size."

This is a risky declaration indeed, especially with our aforementioned Head Peacekeeper sitting right there at Rooba's bar. I've never heard of anyone being punished for openly insulting a Peacekeeper in public before, but – as with anything in Twelve – I'm sure there is a law against it. Nevertheless, with a roar of laughter encouraging me from around the Hob, I press on.

"And another thing: Katniss is not really from the Seam anymore. She won the Games, which is one more than _you've_ survived, and is the richest girl in the district. She is above you in every way – basic economics now included – and you deserve to show her some respect!"

My mother is utterly stupefied. She stares at me, her son, speechless, as if she does not recognize me. The Hob erupts into cheers. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Katniss is just as stunned, but nevertheless is smiling.

Thoroughly humiliated, Mom stomps out of the black market. Cray, though equally trolled, passes out at the bar; I'm relieved to at least know he probably won't remember my mockery of him. And nobody here will tell – Seam folk may be poor, but from what Katniss has told me, they are loyal to the end, especially if you stick up for them.

I turn to follow Mom out for home, when I am suddenly almost knocked over by Katniss throwing her arms around me, like at the train station.

"Thank you!" she hisses in my ear. "That was the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me!" Then, she nearly makes me come to pieces by what she does next.

She kisses me on the cheek.


	10. Chapter 10: 75th Reaping

**Chapter 10: 75** **th** **Reaping**

Katniss and I grow ever closer as the months drag on, eventually becoming really good friends. The huntress even admits to me one day how much comfort she finds in me, which leaves me in a lovesick tizzy the rest of the day at the bakery.

So, I miss my best friend something awful when she leaves in the middle of winter for several weeks to go on her Victory Tour. I still have my weekly deliveries of bread to take to the Victor's Village, but without Katniss and Haymitch there, it's not the same.

I am cheered when I get the first of many letters from Katniss, telling me all that she is doing. The blunt part of her personality jumps off the pages, a side of her which I have come to find endearing; she is especially critical of all the hoops she has to jump through, the events she has to attend. I can tell that her writing me gives her heart to get through this one last little obstacle. I am utterly ecstatic when she addresses one of her missives with the phrase _My Dearest, Peeta_. Yes, with a comma after "dearest". It changed the meaning. Did she intend this? I don't mind. One stroke, and she has consumed my waking days. I am in a daze, thinking that she may have referred to me as her "dearest."

I give her a big hug at the station when her train finally returns. The brave part of my brain is still pondering about just kissing her, but I conclude that I need to give it more time.

The following spring rolls around, and mandatory programming announces that the Quarter Quell Reading of the Card will be broadcast soon. Yes, this year is the 75th Hunger Games, also known as the 3rd Quarter Quell. Besides having just won the previous Games, District 12 will surely be even more in the spotlight, as the previous Quell was the year our very own Haymitch Abernathy won the crown.

I am surprised, but nevertheless pleased, when Katniss invites me up to Victor's Village for the broadcast. I feel a little out of place, since I am neither a Victor nor a Victor's relative (though I hope to be the latter one day), but the Everdeens make me feel welcome. Haymitch has come to accept me as a regular staple in Village goings-on and therefore tolerates me, for which I am grateful. Nevertheless, I suspect it's somewhat forced, because if he didn't accept me, Katniss would have his head. Mentor and protégé's relationship is….. strained, at best.

President Snow takes the podium and gives a brief spiel about the Dark Days and the rise of the Hunger Games, then proceeds to recite the twists of the two previous Quells.

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that it was their choice to initiate violence, the districts were made to hold a special election, and vote for the tributes who would represent it."

I wonder what that would have been like. Picking the kids who had to go. It is worse, I think, to be betrayed by your own neighbors than by the random whims of the Reaping Ball. I glance at Katniss, and I can tell she, too, is repulsed.

"On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, each district was required to send twice as many tributes."

I imagine facing a field of 47 instead of 23. Both Katniss and I chance a look at Haymitch, who is predictably taking a long swing from his flask. How on earth did he manage to survive that certain hell?

"And now we honor our Third Quarter Quell." A small boy presents the President with a box filled with envelopes. My stomach twists. Whoever invented this sick contest imagined centuries of Hunger Games. Snow takes the envelope labeled 75 and lifts the flap. Retrieving the card, and without pausing, he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that it was the Capitol who realized wisdom before the districts, two adult men and two adult women will be reaped for the arena. Anyone 19 years of age or older – save previous victors – will be eligible."

Mrs. Everdeen has her mouth open in horror. Katniss seems paralyzed. Why, I don't know – with this twist, Prim is safe, right? Hell, I'm only seventeen, so I just missed the cutoff.

Then, I get it, what it means, as I chance another look at Mrs. Everdeen. _She_ could be reaped for the arena, not Prim. Another thought strikes me like a lightning bolt. My father… my mother….. my brothers….

All of them could be reaped for the arena.

* * *

Out of all my family members, I pity my brother Rye the most. His supposedly final Reaping, at 18, was last year; at 19, Leven had aged out the year before that.

And now, either one of them could still be thrown to the malice of the Games.

When I return home, crestfallen, after the announcement, Dad wraps me in a tight hug. I know why. He's relieved I'm spared the Reaping for another year. But this is not about me. I fear for my entire family. Worst-case scenario is I could lose three of them to the arena.

The day of the Reaping dawns unusually cool for June, giving the event a strange sense of foreboding and wrapping an almost icy noose around my heart. Effie Trinket presents herself with her usual verve but it seems forced. I wonder if she is disheartened by the Quell's twist? Somehow I doubt it – she's from the Capitol; they're supposed to love the Games.

She starts off by reading the names of past District 12 victors. As we have for decades, a moment of silence is observed for our very first: Duke Vedaldi, long since dead. He won in the early years, the 13th Games, I think? I'll have to ask Haymitch, who is now called with a smattering of applause, followed by a cheer – which I lead – for last year's champion, Katniss.

My enthusiasm, briefly stoked for the girl I love, plummets into sheer terror as Effie proceeds to the Reaping Ball to select the first woman tribute. "Lillian Everdeen!"

I feel the wind knocked out of me and I seek out Katniss. If she is anguished, she does not show it; she has probably trained herself to show zero emotion at this possibility, now a terrifying reality.

But it only gets worse.

"Paula Mellark!" My _own_ mother takes the stage, her face betraying as little as Katniss's does. As much as I hate her, I feel as though I am drowning.

The next name sends me nearly crumpling to the ground.

"Rye Mellark!" My second-eldest brother joins Mom onstage as Effie reaches to draw the last tribute. Even as she does, it's almost as if I can predict what's coming, yet still will it not to be so. _No…. please, please, no…._

"Leven Mellark!" And there he goes, my eldest brother joining his family as the final tribute. All four are whisked into the Justice Building by Peacekeepers.

I blindly search for my father in the crowd, my mind in a fog. The absolute _worst_ -case scenario, and it's happening. I could lose at least two, if not three, of my family members to likely death.

* * *

The inside of the Justice Building is surprisingly chaotic when Dad and I get inside. My mind continues to swirl as I let Dad guide me through the crunch of people. How can this be? The chances of three family members getting Reaped together? In any normal year, it would be impossible, of course. This year, it had to have been a one-in-a-billionth chance.

A sudden thought strikes me. Was this by design? Does Snow realize how close I have become to his latest victor and did this to punish me, to punish us both? Dark as the implication might be, I can't rule it out. Nothing's impossible for the Capitol.

The first tribute room we approach must be Mrs. Everdeen's, for I see a weepy Prim being ushered in. Within the somewhat-privacy of the Justice Building, Katniss can be as hysterical as she likes, screaming at the Peacekeeper guards, "I ask to see her as her _daughter_ , not as her mentor! Now back off if you know what's good for you!" After some haggling, the Peacekeepers amazingly acquiesce and allow her to follow Prim inside. I can't help but smirk as I wonder if these guards are _afraid_ of her. Katniss certainly radiates power – much more than even she might realize. To actually scare a Peacekeeper into doing what you want would be a power unprecedented.

Dad and I reach a second door, which must hold Mom. He pats me on the shoulder. "I'll go in first. You see to your brothers. Then, we'll swap, yeah?" He sweeps into Mom's room before I can respond, and I conclude he must be holding himself together for my sake, and the rest of his family. I move to a third room down the line, uncertain whether Rye or Leven lies within. When the guards let me pass, I am surprised to find both of them.

"Lumping us together helps them save space," Rye cracks self-deprecatingly when he sees me. "I'm surprised the Wicked Witch of the West isn't in here with us as well." Any other time, his secret nickname for Mom would make me chuckle, but now I can barely hold back a sob as I throw myself into my brother's arms.

"One of you has to come back alive," I croak out. "If the rules say I can't have both of you, then at least one of you has to come out. Stay alive. Do whatever Haymitch and Katniss tell you, especially Haymitch. He may be old, but he's been at this longer, so he knows what he's doing. Do you understand? Promise me!"

Leven nods. "We promise, little brother…. but only if you make us a promise in return."

I crack a grin through my tears as I stare up into his face. "Anything."

"Promise us that when this all ends…. go after her." I know he is talking about Katniss, but even so, I blush. Leven laughs. "Seriously: grow a pair. I don't care what you have to do to get there. Ask her out on a date. Hell, drop down on one knee before even that and ask the little lady to marry you. Push her up against the wall and bang her till her legs are jelly, I don't care!" I flush scarlet, and he ruffles my hair. "Cause barring a miracle, when all is said and done, you will be the last hope to keep the Mellark name alive. Oh, that girl might seem tough on the outside, but if anyone has shown she can be tamed, it's you! Give Dad lots of grandchildren."

Rye nods encouragement, smiling. "You can get on without us, little brother. We're so proud of you. And remember everything we told you about safe sex! Katniss probably doesn't like going without protection!"

I laugh again. They are so brave, joking and making this about me and not them, even though it's the other way around and not funny in the least. I wrap them both in a tight hug.

"Go see Mom," Leven encourages me. "And good luck. We love you!"

I bid them farewell. Then I move into my mother's room.

She is sitting in a chair, looking oddly serene. I approach cautiously.

"Hey, Mom," I venture. She doesn't answer. I press on. "Did you talk to Dad?"

"Yes," she replies shortly. "Is he with your brothers now?"

"Yes," I say, even though I didn't cross paths with him through the crowd. If nothing else but to be fair, I encourage, "You can win, Mom."

She laughs mirthlessly. "Against 47 other people? Forget it, boy!"

"Haymitch did it."

"And look at what he is now: a drunken fool!" she spits. "Oh, I'll almost certainly die in there. But then again, death can't be much better than this life. I've hated it, anyway."

Hurt as I am by her admission, I don't feel the need to press encouragement. Sometimes, if a tribute has given up, well, what else can you do but hope for the best if you can't push them yourself? Haymitch has told countless stories of pupils of his who were of that ilk.

I want to do something meaningful with the last bit of time I have left with her, but am at a loss as to what. Should I apologize for the way I embarrassed her in the Hob all those months ago? She probably won't accept it. So, instead, I settle for a small, "Goodbye." Then: "Love you." And despite it all, I find it within myself to mean it. She does not respond as I am escorted out.

I move on to try and find Katniss, passing my father in the opposite direction. Maybe he went to the restroom after visiting with my brothers. I see Katniss outside her mother's locked door, clutching Prim to her. She hurries up to me when she sees me and takes my hand in hers.

"I promise, Peeta, I'll do whatever it takes to bring your mom or one of your brothers back alive!"

I shake my head. "No. All three of them seem resigned to their fate, Mom especially. You focus on your getting _your_ mother out, you understand me?"

Katniss stares at me. "But…. you…."

"….. will be just fine, even if worst comes to worst." I say as sure as I can. "I'll have Dad to fall back on. Who would you and Prim have, if you lose your mom?"

Katniss's eyes fill with tears and she hugs me close to her. I inhale the sweet scent of her hair, of her skin.

"And don't worry – I'll look after Prim while you're away."

"Thank you," she whispers, before pulling back and kissing me on the cheek. She then – in the biggest act of trust I have ever seen from her – passes her precious sister off to me, just before the Peacekeepers escort her, the tributes, Haymitch and Effie to the train.

The nightmares come swift, sure and hard that night.


	11. Chapter 11: Observer Again

**Chapter 11: Observer Again**

After my nightmares, I don't know how I fall asleep. All I know is that Dad is soon shaking me.

"Peeta? Wake up! Come on, son, the mandatory viewing is starting in the square soon."

I look out my window and want to groan. The sky is barely beginning to lighten. But I hop out of bed, shower and dress.

By the time Dad and I leave the bakery, matching each other step for step, the sun is just peeking over the horizon. But, instead of heading directly to the district square, Dad leads us in the opposite direction, towards Victor's Village.

"Where are we going?"

"We have to pick up Prim," my father tells me.

"Why?" I ask, and immediately realize it's a stupid question, recalling the promise I gave Katniss. Nevertheless, Dad gives me a look.

"I promised Lillian that we would look after her while she and Katniss….. were gone."

Well, _this_ is news. "You visited her in the Justice Building?"

"I visited all of them - your brothers and your mother included. It seemed only fair that I say goodbye to Lillian, too."

Remembering how my father was in love with her (and probably still is), I smirk. "You give her any last declarations of love or something?"

Dad throws back his head and actually laughs. "Peeta Joseph Mellark, what a question! No." He shakes his head and smiles sadly. "It's too late for me, son. Same for her. Besides, I had the rest of my family to think about. Your mom…."

I am about to point out how Mom hasn't loved him in years, but I hold my tongue. I notice something about my father that I hadn't noticed this morning getting out of bed. Not only does he reek so that's it clear he hasn't showered since yesterday, but there is also something on the corner of his mouth. Pink…. It looks almost like a print of lipstick….

I smile, surmising what really happened in Mrs. Everdeen's holding cell. But for Dad's sake, I do not oust him or press the matter further. I can see his thoughts are elsewhere - likely on whatever did happen…...

* * *

 _***Steffan entered the holding room to see Lillian Everdeen sitting on the cushioned seat by the window. She stood when she saw him._

 _" **Steffan? What are you doing here?** "_

 _" **I came to see you. I'm saying goodbye to the rest of my family; it isn't fair if you don't get the same treatment.** "_

 _Lillian smiled sadly and looked down at her feet. " **You're too kind.** "_

 _Steffan approached and took her hand. " **There isn't much time, but I will say this: I promise you, neither Katniss or Prim will starve. Or go to the community home. Victor or not, Katniss may still be susceptible to either, and Prim by extension. Don't worry. Peeta and I won't let anything happen to them.** "_

 _Lillian looked up into his face, smiling. " **You were always so incredibly generous. Even when we were kids…..** " A thought struck her. " **What about Paula?** "_

 _" **She doesn't have a say in this, and she likely won't for much longer. Besides,** " and his voice was bitter, " **she hasn't loved me for years. Let's just say our goodbyes a little bit ago weren't as anguishing as you might think for a husband and wife.** "_

 _Lillian stared at him: " **I'm sorry.** "_

 _" **Now don't start - you have nothing to be sorry for….** "_

 _" **Yes, I do. We were friends for years; anyone would think that would lead to something bigger, but then Estes…. just by singing….** " She sighed. " **I just wish….. if everything I loved about you and him could have been blended into one man. It was agony to choose.** "_

 _" **You followed your heart, what was best for you,** " Steffan told her quietly. " **He was the one you couldn't have survived without. I don't blame you for that; I never have. And hey,** " he chuckled. " **If things had turned out differently between us, my youngest wouldn't be lusting after your oldest like a lovesick puppy. Peeta would generously give Katniss the world if he could.** "_

 _Lillian laughed. " **He takes after his father, then.** " She squeezed Steffan's hand. " **And he has my blessing. Just tell Peeta: Be patient. His time will come. My eldest girl is hardly the romantic type, but I hope she gets her head out of her rear and notices what's in front her. Peeta's a good boy. A generous boy. She would do well to see him as I do. Heck, she might be starting to -** " She smiled ruefully. " **I can tell she's becoming confused about what exactly Peeta is to her. It may become clearer to her in time. Translation: she's falling in love.** " Steffan laughed, and she just shrugged. " **A mother knows these sorts of things. Still, she should s** **eize the opportunity, before it's too late. At least her dear mother will know she is taken care of.** " She smirked. " **Don't tell her I said that last bit - she would kill me!** "_

 _Steffan laughed. " **I hope she takes a chance, too…. they way we should have, but couldn't.** "_

 _Both held each other's gaze for a long moment. Then Steffan pulled something out of his pocket._

 _" **I bought this for you when we were teenagers. I was going to use it to ask you to marry me.** " _

_Lillian gasped, one hand to her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears. " **And you kept it, after all these years?** "_

 _Steffan chuckled mirthlessly. " **I wasn't about to give it to Paula after you and Estes married; it wouldn't have been right. Yes, it's tardy, I know, and now it's for a different purpose.** " He took the ring on the chain it now was attached to and hung it about Lillian's neck. " **Katniss says you can wear a token into the arena…. Will you wear this for me?** "_

 _Lillian stared at him. Then she suddenly reached for him and kissed him - right on the lips. Her hands gently cupped his face. Steffan kissed her back, wanting to memorize every detail of the moment. Lillian drew away. Her kiss said it all - yes, of course she would wear the token._

 _ **" That was years tardy,**" and her voice seemed slightly breathless. " **I haven't done that since Estes.** " She glanced away sadly. " **It's been a long time for me.** "_

 _" **Me too,** " Steffan admitted. _

_The Peacekeepers could be heard approaching the door._

 _" **Lillian!** " She turned to him. " **…..I love you.** "_

 _She smiled softly. " **I love you, too.** "_

 _It was only until he got home that night that he noticed the print of her lipstick on his mouth.***_

* * *

We approach the Everdeen house in the Victor's Village and Dad raps on the door. Prim answers, wearing a pretty sundress and her blonde hair done in braids.

"Good morning, Primrose," Dad says kindly. "Ready to go to the square?"

She nods, clearly nervous. The three of us turn and head back towards the square. Prim is rubbing at her eyes quite a bit, and I wonder if she is crying. Then I notice the dark circles under her eyes.

"Did you sleep at all last night, Prim?"

She shakes her head at me. "No. I had nightmares about Mama and Katniss, and…. it was just so spooky and lonely in that big house all by myself."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you can stay with us at the bakery until the Games are over," Dad tells her. Prim agrees, saying she would like that very much.

We make it to the square just in time, among the last to arrive. As we wait in line to register, Head Peacekeeper Thread gives us what he must think is a smile; it's actually a sneer.

"Was about to send some men to your place to fetch you. Didn't know if you would show."

I don't want to even imagine what the phrase 'fetching' would really entail, but Dad just smiles at the official. "Our apologies, Mr. Head Peacekeeper. We just had to get young Ms. Everdeen at her place. She's all alone, you see." He claps Prim on the shoulder.

Thread nods stiffly, and then beckons to us when we have finished signing in. "Follow me, then."

I try not to show panic as I look to my dad. "Did we say something wrong?"

"No," Prim whispers to me. "Relatives of the tributes get priority seating for the Games. Mama and I watched with the Hawthornes up front last year."

 _Wonderful,_ I think sarcastically. _Not only do I have to watch most of my family fight to the death, I get VIP seating for it. Whoopee!_

Prim, Dad and I are ushered into three seats in the front. They are the only chairs in the entire square; everyone else is made to stand.

Just like last year, I watch as all the district trains pull into the Capitol, their tributes herded off like cattle while paparazzi flash their pictures. Mom, Rye, Leven and Mrs. Everdeen are last of all; I watch them try and navigate the attention with the help of Katniss and Haymitch.

Then, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, our hosts, introduce each tribute one by one. It's agonizingly long, given that there are 48 tributes this year. I wonder how my parents, as young teenagers, got through this when Haymitch was competing. At long last, District 12 is introduced. Mrs. Everdeen is given slightly more coverage than anyone else, since she _is_ the mother of last year's victor. Then Mom, Rye and Leven are introduced, with Claudius saying something about how remarkable it is, three tributes from one family! I feel Dad squeeze my knee for comfort.

Talking heads coverage goes on for the rest of the day, and it is predictably boring. The blistering heat only makes it worse. After one person faints from heatstroke, some higher-up has the good sense to tell the Peacekeepers to pass out nourishment. The white-armored guards are soon moving up and down the aisles, dealing out popcorn and lemonade as if we are at a sporting event. And, in a way, we are.

When the evening finally comes, everyone just wants to go home. But we have to get through the chariot rides first. Unlike regular years, there are four tributes per district. But that doesn't stop the Capitol from simply stuffing all four tributes into one chariot each, featuring two carriage rows. Mrs. Everdeen and Leven are paired off in one row, while Mom is with Rye. As the chariots proceed to the City Circle, I notice Mom is staring at the back of Mrs. Everdeen's head so hard, her eyes might burn holes in it. President Snow greets the tributes, and we see them begin to enter the Training Center. The live feed turns to black, and the daily programming is over.

Prim accompanies Dad and myself back to the bakery, and I let her have the pick of either Rye or Leven's rooms. I fall asleep, dreading what tomorrow will bring.

* * *

The next three days, we thankfully are not required to attend any sort of Games coverage, as the tributes are in training. Dad and I are able to keep our minds off the dire circumstances by continuing our work, baking bread and pastries for the 'festivity' ahead. Prim stays with us and helps by taking our customers' orders.

All too soon, it is the evening of the third day, and we are required to be in the square for the release of the tributes' training scores. Name after name and number after number is called until Caesar finally reaches District 12. Mrs. Everdeen goes first, garnering a score of 5. That's borderline average. I hear Dad groan nervously beside me. Then it's Mom. A 9. Rye and Leven both score 10s, putting them right up with the Career tributes. My family's high scores give me no comfort, though. It may improve their chances with sponsors, but at the same time, they will be targets for hunting. And Mrs. Everdeen…. Katniss must be terrified.

I do not realize how serious Mrs. Everdeen's predicament is until the next night, when the interviews are broadcast. Katniss's mother presents herself as likable, and tells of her time as a Healer in the district. She gets laughs with her line, "I don't think healing will do me much good in the arena," and garners sympathy as she expresses her wish to come home to her daughters so they are not orphans. She blows a kiss to Prim at the end.

Then it's Mom's turn. I immediately know which angle she worked out with Katniss and Haymitch. Arrogant all the way. But it's what happens at the end of the interview that leaves me sick.

"Not only are you competing against two of your sons, but you are also competing against the mother of a victor. Is that awkward?"

Mom smirks. "Not for my sons, no. My boys are strong, they can handle themselves. We'll see what happens. But I know one thing: Lillian Everdeen will not leave this arena alive! She stole my husband's heart away from me, and yet went off like an idiot and married a Seam miner!" She spits on the ground.

"Ho, ho!" Caesar chuckles. "A love triangle, have we?"

Caesar may think this new development is funny, but I think it's anything but. At Mom's outing of her husband's feelings for Mrs. Everdeen, I know the whole district's eyes are on us. Dad is looking sadly at the ground, refusing to look anyone in the eye, least of all Prim, as this is the first time she's heard of this.

As for me, I want to reach through that jumbotron and wring my bitch of a mother's neck. Maybe Caesar's too. And bring Mrs. Everdeen to safety, if not for her and Dad's sake, than for Katniss's. The worst part of it is that Mrs. Everdeen now has no way of defending herself.

I barely remember anything about my brothers' interviews. They did as well as they could, but Mom stole the show in her own twisted way. The programming ends, and all I want to do is get out of there. Dad gets up immediately and heads for the bakery without waiting to see if we will follow. I have to grab Prim and pull her along to keep up - and also because I do not want to be inundated with questions from neighbors about my father's love life.

Upon reaching the bakery, I send Prim up to bed, and my voice tells her there is no room for argument. Dad is at the kitchen table, head in his hands, looking pale and tired. My feelings can't remain bottled up anymore and I scream for the whole house to hear.

"THAT BITCH!" I roar. "She crucified Mrs. Everdeen and will probably get loads of sponsors!" I wonder if that was her strategy all along. Surely it had to have been. Another horrid thought strikes me: _did Haymitch or Katniss know of this plan beforehand?_ Even if Katniss had to go through the awful task of mentoring my mother, I doubt Mom would have divulged this information to her. My mother is many things - a bitch included - but an idiot is not one of them. And if there's one person who could stand up to her awfulness and not take it, it would be Katniss Everdeen. She might have told Haymitch, if nothing else because they seem to be of the same temperament. And it would be something the old drunk could work with in getting sponsors.

Dad is staring straight ahead. "Paula can't win," he vows. "She just can't."

Despite my rage towards my mother, his comment - essentially condemning his wife to death, _wishing_ for it - hits me right between the eyes. Yet I know it to be true. Mom does not deserve the Victor's Crown, and if she came back alive, she would make Dad's and my life a living hell. I nod.

"Then…. we have to root for Lillian first. Then Rye and Leven." Dad seems to balk at this suggestion, but I silence him. "If not for your sake, then for Katniss and Prim. They need their mother. Even then, if she does win, maybe you two could…. you know…."

"No, Peeta!" Dad barks, and I am amazed at his forcefulness. "I will not do that to you. I cannot be selfish - if Lillian survived and I….. it would destroy any chance of happiness you might have with Katniss."

"This is not _about_ me!" I protest. "And Katniss won't see me as anything more than a friend." As hard as that is to admit, I believe it to be true.

Dad shakes his head. "Don't give up hope, son. You may think this is not about you, but it is. I lost my chance at happiness; I won't allow you to resign yourself into thinking you have, too."

I take a deep breath and nod. He's right. You can only hope. And besides, come tomorrow, there is someone who is going to need us. Prim.


	12. Chapter 12: Family Up for Sacrifice

**Chapter 12: Family Up for Sacrifice**

Dad wakes both Prim and me up before first light. We proceed down to the district square as slowly as possible, yet still are the first to arrive, taking our folding chair places. After about an hour, the rest of the district begins to trickle in.

At 10 AM sharp, the TV jumbotron becomes live. There are scream of excitement from the Capitol audience that clash horribly with our district's silence.

The tributes are seen rising up into the arena, and my heart stops in terror when I see the setting. The Cornucopia is on an island in the middle of a small ocean. Rocky spokes jut out like tentacles from the sandy landmass, creating watery wedges where the tributes' pedestals - four to each wedge - now sit.

 _They can't swim_. I think in a panic. _Not Mom, not Rye, not Leven - none of them can swim!_ I am not sure about Mrs. Everdeen, even. But my fears are softened slightly when the gong sounds and she wastes no time diving into the water. Within her wedge, two pedestals over, Leven spies Lillian and takes a deep breath. But instead of leaping into the water, he leaps for the pedestal to his left, tackling one of the men from 7 and launching them both into the water. There's a furious struggle underwater until at last, a cannon. Lillian looks to the ripples fearfully and I lock hands with Dad, both of us holding our breaths. When a body surfaces, followed by an alive Leven, we both nearly collapse in relief.

Lillian swims over to Leven and he holds onto her as she swims them to the nearest rocky spoke and they climb ashore. One spoke over from theirs, they meet Rye's eyes; he somehow managed to leap from his pedestal to the shore without getting wet. All three sprint towards the jungle and then meet in the middle before running away from the Cornucopia. An alliance.

I am relieved the three made it out safely, but am also concerned. Rye and Leven could have held their own in the Bloodbath and gotten supplies; without them, the trio will be worse off in the jungle.

That makes me realize with a start, and I curse myself for showing an ounce of concern: what about Mom?

Mom ended up in a wedge on the other side of the Cornucopia, directly opposite Rye's. Unlike many of the tributes who feared the water because they could not swim, she leaps bravely in. When she surfaces, she actually begins to do clumsy strokes directly towards the beach. I know she cannot swim and wonder how this is possible until Dad points it out to me.

"Look at her belt."

I follow his gaze and hone in on the belt around Mom's waist. It seems to be….

Dad nods, as if he can read my thoughts. "They're flotation devices. At the very least, they'll keep you from drowning."

We watch as Mom slows her advance as she approaches the beach. She now grows limp and allows the tide to carry her body to shore. As she crawls on her belly towards where a group of tributes have already started picking over the weapons - mostly Careers - she spies a belt in the sand. I see her grin. Next second, she is on her feet and moving surprisingly fast, despite her age. A flash of silver goes right into the shoulder blades of one of the men from 4. In another instant, Mom slashes out at one of the men from 2, drawing blood across his stomach. He reels back in shock. Mom then throws a projectile at one of the women from 1 and it hits the female right between the eyes. As she goes down, Mom dives back into the water and swims to the opposite shore. No one follows her.

The entire exchange takes place in seconds.

I can't believe it. My mother just took out a quarter of the Career pack! When she reaches the opposite shore and grins triumphantly at the belt in her hands, I can see why. I grow sick.

Mom managed to escape with a belt of kitchen knives. Suddenly, Paula Mellark has become a very real, dangerous contender in these Games.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rye, Leven and Mrs. Everdeen are jogging as quick as they can through the jungle. Leven is leading the way, huffing and puffing.

"We'd better find water soon!" my oldest brother calls to his companions.

"LEVEN! LOOK OUT!" Mrs. Everdeen screams.

Two tributes - the women from 5, I think, emerge from the trees. Both are armed with broadswords. Rye pushes Mrs. Everdeen down into the foliage. "Get down and stay down!" he hisses.

Prim and I are gripping my father in terror. The death of our loved ones could be seconds away.

The first woman charges Rye, but he manages to sidestep her blow before twisting her sword off and away from her and then grabbing her in a tackle. Both roll around the jungle floor. I am confident, however. Rye came in first in our school's wrestling championship two years ago. And it seems that he has not lost his touch, because he soon has the woman in a headlock and snaps her neck.

Leven is having a harder time with the other District 5 woman, however. Both are grappling for control of her sword, to the point where Leven is on the ground with the woman on top of him. She is trying to push the blade towards his chest!

The other woman lies dead and Rye is against a tree, exhausted from his fight. Meanwhile, Mrs. Everdeen is starting to rouse herself. She sees Leven struggling, and then spies the sword of the fallen tribute. She knows what she has to do. Grabbing the blade, she runs up behind the second woman and plunges it into her back.

The second District 5 woman coughs up blood right into Leven's face before slumping to the side, dead.

Our district is applauding in relief, but Dad and I are cheering. Prim is deflated with relief.

"Atta girl, Lillian!" my father calls.

Lillian pulls Leven to his feet. "Thanks," he breathes, impressed.

Lillian shrugs. "You help me, I help you, right?"

Her comment makes me think back to the alliance they've created. It's clear they worked the arrangement out before hand, but can I really believe it? Would my brothers really be willing to ditch their own mother in favor of the mom of their baby brother's crush? Both Rye and Leven are well aware of my feelings for Katniss - they have teased me about it to no end. But what's that to them, in the context of the arena?

The trio collect the dead tributes packs. At least now, they have supplies and weapons. The packs do contain some meager food supplements, but I am annoyed when there proves to be no water. What do the Gamemakers want? Have all their tributes drop dead of dehydration?

The three set up camp, and night falls. A series of seemingly never ending cannons now sounds, and I realize the Bloodbath must finally be over. When I finish, 26 cannons have sounded.

"Even though we have double numbers, that's still a lot," my dad whispers to me. "Not nearly as many died in Haymitch's Games."

As our loved ones settle down to sleep, I wish I could just burrow into myself and forget the world. But, now that the Games are on, we have no choice but to stay in the square and watch all night, in case we miss some of the action. Dad puts his overcoat over a dozed-off Prim and then nods to me encouragingly.

"Get some sleep, son."

I hunker into my folding chair and obey; Dad's promise to stay up and keep watch the last thing I hear before everything goes black.


	13. Chapter 13: Mother Against Sons

**Chapter 13: Mother Against Sons**

Dad wakes me up early the next morning. Prim is still asleep, but she wakes soon after.

"What happened?"

"Rye, Leven and Lillian had to outrun a Gamemaker trap during the night. Some poisonous fog," Dad tells me. "They're safe for now, don't worry."

"Any deaths?"

"I think I heard two cannons."

I look to the Jumbotron. A camera comes up on my brothers and Mrs. Everdeen, hiding at the edge of the jungle on the beach. They are watching the Cornucopia, but there doesn't seem to be much movement from their vantage point. I notice Rye driving a cylindrical metal object into a tree and look to Dad for an explanation.

"A gift from a sponsor, soon after you fell asleep. It's called a spile, I think. Taps water from the trees."

I want to cry from relief at my loved ones getting fresh water. But my relief soon turns into terror.

A yell can be heard and my loved ones attempt to retreat into the jungle, but too late. They have been spotted.

By none other than Mom. She is wielding two kitchen knives and sporting a menacing snarl.

"You worthless brats!" she screams at Rye and Leven. "How dare you leave your dear mother for _her_!" She points an accusing finger at Mrs. Everdeen.

"You seem to be doing just fine on your own," Rye responds coolly. "I see blood on your hands. How many kills you got in, Mom?"

"More than you, I'm sure!" she spits. "But I am not completely unreasonable. Hand the Everdeen bitch over, join me and I'll let you live… for now."

Neither Rye nor Leven move. Prim and I tense next to Dad; our entire district is holding its breath. Finally, Rye and Leven close ranks around Mrs. Everdeen.

"You are no mother of ours," Leven says shortly. "You're going to have to kill us."

Mom blinks in disbelief, but quickly recovers. "Fine!" Her hand is a blur as she hurls a knife into Leven's stomach. As he topples, she wrestles away his sword and attacks Rye. Mother and son duel. Mrs. Everdeen watches the whole affair from off to one side, too horrified to move. I am yelling at her to attack Mom from behind, like before with the District 5 women (damn the consequences of the No Outbursts policy!), but she is frozen to the spot. Amazingly, Mom gains the upper hand and slices Rye through. He crumples to the sand.

Two cannons sound.

"NO!" I scream. Dad is shaking, trying to stop the tears from falling as he watches his wife round on the one woman he truly loved.

"And now for you," Mom sneers. Mrs. Everdeen picks up Rye's sword and the women circle each other. "Finally! I get to do what I have always dreamed of doing to you, you Seam trash."

"Paula," Lillian says slowly, trying to talk reason where there is none. "I did love Steffan. We were good friends. He asked me to marry him when we were teens, and if I hadn't had Estes already waiting for me, I would have said yes."

"So, you admit it!" Mom snarls. "Good. Getting last confessions in before you meet your maker!"

"Paula, please!" Lillian is begging. "I didn't mean to steal Steffan away from you; that was never my intention. Try for some mercy!"

"I gave that up long ago," Mom snarls. And she lunges.

Lillian is able to parry only a few blows before Mom gets past her defenses and stabs her through the heart. She collapses to the sand and soon lies still. The cannon sounds.

Dad buries his face in his hands as I try and fail to comfort a distraught Prim. I can only imagine what Katniss is feeling, watching from the safety of the Mentor's Bar.

Meanwhile, Mom collects her district partners' packs while hovercraft collect their bodies. Then she marches into the jungle.

No doubt, having killed at least six tributes already, including her own sons, the most bloodthirsty Capitol citizens will be showering her with gifts. I start to fear that Mom could win this whole thing, then come back and terrorize the only family she has left.

So it comes as a shock when Mom's time runs out far sooner than I anticipated.

The screen is still showing a triumphant Mom when a rumble can be felt and heard. Mom looks up and for the first time, I see fear cross her eyes. She screams as the giant tidal wave boars down on her and swallows her whole. Another cannon.

And just like that, District 12 is out of the 75th Hunger Games.


	14. Chapter 14: Drawn Together in Loss

**Chapter 14: Drawn Together in Loss**

One of the men from 5 - a partner of the women my brothers killed - ends up winning the whole Quell. His victory party is quick and honestly, I don't remember most of it, not even the guy's name.

I am too numb from loss.

A few days after the Victor's final interview with Caesar, the Capitol train pulls into District 12, depositing Katniss and Haymitch. I am surprised when she gives me a hug of her own accord, but I know she must be feeling awful at the loss of my family and wants to comfort me.

Orphans now, Katniss and Prim have no choice but to return to her home in the Victor's Village without their mother. Since Katniss is not yet 18 and thus a legal adult, I fear both girls might be sent to the community home. Thankfully, nothing comes of this possibility, perhaps because of Katniss's Victor status.

Dad and I try to move on by continuing to run the bakery, but without Rye or Leven's presence, it is strangely quiet. Hell, I even find myself missing my Mom's yells and rants from time to time.

One night, Dad sends me to Victor's Village with some pastries and bread for the Everdeen girls. As I am about to deposit the package on the front porch, I hear a terrible scream. Panicked, I run into the unlocked house and up the stairs to Katniss's room. I find her scrambling about her sheets, crying, gripped in a cold sweat. She starts when she sees me, then flushes with embarrassment.

"It's just a nightmare, I'm sorry."

"It's OK. I was just dropping off some baked goods for you and Prim. Besides, I get nightmares too. Good night." I turn to leave when I hear her call out:

"Peeta?….. Will you stay with me tonight?"

I hide my secret elation as best I can and nod. "Yeah."

She lets me into her bed and actually cuddles into me for warmth. I hope she doesn't hear the pounding of my heart… or notice the growing bulge in my pants. "Always," I whisper.

"I'm sorry," she gets out. "That I couldn't save them. Rye. Leven. Even your mom. I let you down."

"No, no, you could _never_ let me down, Katniss. I forgive you, without any conditions. Besides, I gave you permission to put your mom first, remember?"

"And I failed her too! I watched Mother die!" she sobs into my shirtfront. All I can do is rock her and soothe her until she finally cries herself to sleep. Soon after, I doze off too.


	15. Chapter 15: 76th Reaping

**Chapter 15: 76th Reaping**

My holding Katniss as she sleeps eventually becomes routine. Sure, it takes a little effort on my part, sneaking out of the bakery and hustling across town once I'm sure my father is asleep. But considering that I get to be with the woman of my dreams every night - and she wants me there - I don't mind one bit.

At least with a loss, Katniss and Haymitch don't have to leave halfway through the year for a Victory Tour. It just means I get to spend more time with Katniss and Prim. Both girls come by the bakery often, and I visit them in Victor's Village. As the months go by, Katniss and I become extremely close. At one point she admits to me that I have become her new best friend, and a great source of comfort for her.

All too soon, it is time for the Reaping for the 76th Hunger Games. My last one before I am no longer eligible. _Just one more day of standing in front of the Justice Building, and then you can get on with your life_ , I tell myself. After that, I can focus on my friendship with Katniss. Then, in a couple years, maybe I'll grow a pair like Leven suggested and ask her out on a date. Then, if that goes well, ask her to marry me. Raise little children with the Mellark and Everdeen genes.

Oh, if it were only that simple.

The morning of the Reaping, Effie Trinket pulls Delly Cartwright, my childhood friend, from the Reaping Ball. I am just waiting for her to give the name of the boy so I can go find Katniss, free of the Games forever, when she calls, "Peeta Mellark!"

I pale, but keep my expression neutral as I walk to the stage. My life has just been ripped away from me. I dare not look to see Katniss's expression, much less search the crowd for my father. I shake Delly's hand mutely and we are escorted into the Justice Building.

* * *

Dad is the first person to see me. Surprisingly, Prim is hot on his heels.

"Win," Dad says simply, gripping my hand in a vice so as not to lose it. "I've lost everyone else I ever cared about. Don't you dare die so that I lose you too!"

I nod. Prim is tearful and I pull her into a hug.

"Just try to win, if you can," she begs. "Katniss would be devastated if you died; I don't want her to lose you."

Her comments make me wonder if she realizes my true feelings for her sister. She must. But somehow I know Prim well enough by now to determine that she would not betray my secret. But Katniss? Devastated if I died? My head is swimming.

Peacekeepers hustle both Dad and Prim out, and before I know it, I am on the train.

* * *

After we have left District 12 behind, a Peacekeeper guides me to my room, telling me to wait there for my mentor. I frown. This is new. I know from Katniss that mentors and tributes traditionally meet in the dining car over a late meal to begin discussing strategy. Maybe Delly expressed a desire to be coached separately, as is a tribute's prerogative. I sit on my bed and wait for Haymitch.

But it's not the old drunk who comes. It's Katniss.

"I thought Haymitch was supposed to mentor…."

Katniss waves my concern away. "It's just a technical rule; mentoring based on gender. You can choose who you want to mentor."

"And you chose me?" I try to keep the elation out of my voice.

She nods. "I want to help you," and she seems quite sincere. I am even more bowled over when she takes her hand in mine. "You have to win, Peeta. I won't lose you the way I lost my mother; the way I nearly lost Prim."

I want to faint. She really cares about me! But Katniss is already moving on.

"Now, I know you are quite strong; I've seen you lift flour bags before. And you are probably good with knives, which is an excellent start…."


	16. Chapter 16: Observer Becomes Participant

**Chapter 16: Observer Becomes Participant**

We arrive at the Capitol and the paparazzi are quickly all over us. Being from a fairly loser district like Twelve, I have no idea why, until I remember that they must realize my connection to three of Twelve's tributes last year.

Portia, my designer, puts me in a flaming get-up similar to the one Katniss wowed everyone in the year before last - fire accents and all that. I make small talk with Delly to calm her fears, even as we are riding in the Chariots. We make a splash, but not as large as Katniss and Gale did.

Immediately following, we are whisked into the Training Center, where our three-day tutelage will begin the next day.

Walking me down after breakfast, Katniss encourages me to try new skills, but keep to myself. I nod, knowing I want to save my real talents for the arena.

Right away, I run into trouble, even as I try to keep to myself. I get into the way of the giant boy from District 1, whose name I discover is Maximus. After cutting him off as I head for the mace station, he angrily waits for me to pick my weapon before shoving me out of the way. I don't say anything, though. It will not do well for me to pick fights before I've even entered the arena.

The three days pass quickly and I do my private session with the Gamemakers. I show off my skills with knives and spears, and it must impress them somewhat, for I garner an 8 in the Training Scores broadcast later that night.

The next night is our interviews with Caesar Flickerman. I have to go dead last, but maybe there's an advantage to that. I will be the last thing the sponsors remember before we all go into the arena tomorrow.

Sure enough, the audience seems to already like me when I take the stage.

"Well, well, well, Peeta Mellark. Now, if I'm not mistaken, we had quite a few Mellarks as promising tributes last year."

I nod sadly.

"Was that hard for you?"

I sigh. "It's always hard to lose a family member, Caesar. But my mom and brothers are at peace now." I quickly change the subject, and soon have Caesar rolling with jokes. After belly laughing at one, he takes over again.

"Now, Peeta, tell me: is there a special girl back home?"

In the small space of time, a million thoughts fly through my head at once. _Should I tell him about Katniss? But this is live to the whole country! Besides, she's my mentor! What would she say? Well, Mom outed Dad's feelings for Lillian last year, what's the harm in taking your cues from her? No, bad idea, the sponsors might think you are copying and it's therefore not sincere._

So I make a decision. I shake my head No.

"Handsome guy like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar presses.

I decide to laugh it off. "You're too kind. But no, Caesar, there aren't exactly ladies busting down my door for a crack at the baker's son."

Caesar lets up and concludes our interview. The audience roars for me, and at the very least, I can tell I've made an impression.

* * *

 **A/N: All right, fasten your** **seat belts, the warning about sex with unclear consent is next!**


	17. Chapter 17: Good Intentions, Bad Actions

**Chapter 17: Good Intentions, Bad Actions**

Delly, Effie and Haymitch go to bed early after the broadcasting of our interviews, leaving Katniss and I to stay up by ourselves. We hang out in her room, for once not discussing the Games or strategy, just small talk. I adore this time with her, as it may be the last I get to spend with her. Finally, Katniss admits something that is still quite shocking to me, given its implications.

"I'm scared for you. For tomorrow. Just…. stay alive. Please."

I look at her sympathetically. "Worried you won't be able to get through the nightmares without me?"

Katniss laughs, but there is no mirth in it. "That's the least of my problems. As soon as tomorrow night, I may be sold off to pleasure some Capitol snob at the whim of the President…." She stops short, realizing what she has said, but it's too late. My mind is whirling, soon consumed by a blind rage. _They wouldn't dare make Katniss a… a…_ I cannot even bring myself to think the cursed word.

"So…. they're going to sell you to the highest bidder?"

"Peeta," and there is true sadness in Katniss's eyes. I even see tears swimming there. "I don't have a choice. If I refuse, they could hurt Prim, and then where would I be?"

My mind picks up speed again. There has to be a way around this. Unless she did something with Gale that I have no idea about, Katniss has to be a virgin, which makes this whole situation even worse. Besotted by jealousy and protectiveness, a crazy idea pops into my head and I spit it out before I can think. I clasp Katniss's hand.

"I want to take you to bed, Katniss."

Katniss's eyes bulge. "What?" she gasps, but it is not uttered indignantly, just shocked.

"Let me make love to you tonight. You deserve your first time to be with someone you…. know." I was about to say _love_ ; heck I almost told her I loved her right then and there, but I refrain.

Amazingly, Katniss does not say no right away. I can see her thinking about it. There is even the ghost of a smile on her face as she gazes at me, clearly touched by my thoughtfulness of her.

I interpret this to mean a yes, and – overexcited – eagerly grab the spot between her legs.

Katniss's startled cry is muffled as I bury my lips into the crook of her neck. It devolves into a strangled moan, but soon she is twisting away from me.

"No!" she gasps. Her voice then drops, as if she fears she might wake the others. "You don't have to do that, Peeta. I don't want that."

I am somewhat put off by this, and anger flares up within me. "Oh, so you'd rather be fucked by a stranger, then?"

"No…." but I have grabbed Katniss and pulled her close. I waste no time in throwing down her pajama pants, underwear and all and nearly faint at the sight of her pink, tender womanhood.

Throwing off my bathrobe before dropping swiftly to my knees, I take her cunt in my mouth and begin to suckle, finding her nub and slurping it fast and hard. My hands dig into her hips, holding her in place.

"Uhhh!" Katniss has one hand over her mouth to muffle any cries she might make, even as the other is trying to weakly push me away. After all, she is already beginning to buck her pussy into my lips, the holy flesh there becoming slick with wetness despite her fear. I hope that Katniss knows as little as I do about sex, but I try to remember what my brothers lectured me on as I hit puberty. I probe her folds with my tongue, licking everywhere I can reach, even down deep into her core.

Whether she wants this or not, Katniss's body is still responding to my touch, un-beholden to the mastery of Katniss's refusal in her mind. She bucks her hips almost involuntarily into my mouth, her vagina practically slapping my face. Her one hand is at my chin, trying to force me out, but I remain firm. Between that resistance and my suckling, the muscles in my jaw are sore, but I press on, bobbing my head up and down.

At last, with a muffled "Mmmmm!" from the love of my life, liquid bursts onto my tongue and flows down my gullet; Katniss has ejaculated, cum hard on my face. I emerge from her sopping folds before she can recover and pull her close. In one fluid motion, I sheath my manhood powerfully inside of her.

Katniss lets out a scream of pain, silenced by the sloppy, rough kiss I plant on her. It certainly wasn't how I imagined our first kiss – I get the corner of her mouth, really, and it slides along clumsily, but it keeps her relatively quiet. By now, she has begun to let out agonizing moans and groans, trying and somewhat failing to not draw some pleasure as I move on to kiss and nipple at the flesh of her neck. Indeed, she even arches into me despite some resistance.

At last, she lets out a strangled cry that sounds almost anguished, as she orgasms all over again, stiffening in my embrace before she shudders into a limp form of herself. Moments later, I follow, cumming and spilling my seed inside of her.

We stand there, panting for a minute, until Katniss pushes me so hard I am forced to pull out of her. She goes about the room gathering her pants and underwear, never once meeting my eyes. Not even when she blindly pushes my bathrobe into my hands, sniffling in my ear. Next second, I am being thrown out of her room. Only now does she meet my gaze – her eyes bloodshot, tears running down her face.

"I thought you were my friend!" she croaks out, before banging the door in my face with damning finality.

I stare at the wooden frame, hearing Katniss's wracked sobs behind in, and it dawns on me just what I have done, what I have ruined. I turn away, crushed and ashamed, listening to Katniss's wails.


	18. Chapter 18: Into the Arena

**Chapter 18: Into the Arena**

The dawn cannot come soon enough. I do not sleep, more terrified that I have lost the woman I love for good due to my own stupidity than I am of my impending death. When Effie rouses me with her godforsaken "Big, big, big day!" spiel, I waste no time showering and dressing.

But when I get to the stairs leading to the hovercraft, I can only see Haymitch. "Where's Katniss?"

"I knocked on the door until she told me to go on without her. She seemed really upset."

I wait for Haymitch to rip me a new one about my behavior the previous night - no doubt Katniss told him. But he doesn't say a word. A part of me wonders if he does know. Somehow, for whatever reason, I am inclined to doubt it.

Delly soon joins us, followed by Effie.

"Any last advice?" she asks our mentor. For once, her telltale optimism is gone, which I am grateful for. Even someone like Delly could not spin a positive on a fight to the death.

"Stay alive," Haymitch tells us gruffly. As he turns to leave I grab him by the arm.

"Please give Katniss….. our love," I request, throwing Delly in there to make it seem as innocuous as possible. The old drunk nods and shrugs me off.

"Good luck, boy."

Delly and I board the hovercraft with the other tributes and do not complain as the tracker is placed into our arms. I can feel eyes on me and somehow know they belong to Maximus. The plane takes off and we are at the arena in minutes, before being hustled underground.

Portia gets me in my arena jumpsuit and examines the fabric. "Fairly generic, I would say," she muses. "There's no dead giveaways in the texture that can tell us what climate you'll be in. No insulation, no coolants."

"Perhaps it's a temperate climate, or maybe even in some building." I suggest. Arenas have been known to take place in or around ancient ruins in the past. I recall a ruined city being the setting for the boy who won the year before Katniss.

Portia gives me a hug. "Only one way to find out." She ushers me into the pod, as the announcer calls ten seconds to launch. I am sealed off and the pod begins to rise.

As I am released into the arena, I cannot immediately feel open air or the sun on my face. As my eyes adjust to my surroundings, I realize my hunch proved correct: we are in an abandoned building of some sort.

Given how I can see crumbling basketball hoops and bleachers, I guess that we are in what was once a gym. A gym of an abandoned high school.

There's the Cornucopia in the center of the basketball court. Backpacks litter the space. I spy a small pile of supplies maybe 50 yards ahead of me, just off to my left. A bright green backpack, with a spear and a broadsword leaning against it. I became proficient with both weapons in training; if I can get to that pile and get out of here safely, I'll be set for now.

The gong has barely sounded before I am off my plate and sprinting for the backpack. I reach it, seize all the contents around it and turn to flee. As I make my escape, I see the boy from 6 barreling towards me. Knowing he means to try and cut me off and kill me despite his small size, I put myself on a collision course with him. At the last second, I sidestep and swipe out with my broadsword. The boy's inertia carries him so that he literally runs into my blade, a bloody gash appearing across his stomach. He stumbles backward and is only just falling as I turn away and sprint for the doors of the gymnasium, slam them open and take off down a hallway going God-knows where.

I run past what looks like the main entrance and lobby to the school, as well as a run-down locker bay directly across from it, proceeding straight. I finally pause to rest in front of a second locker bay, dark green paint peeling off the structure. Peering at the letters on an overhang above the bay, I decipher that this is the Junior Locker Bay.

I am on the other side of the school, so I figure that I am far enough away from the other tributes for now. I hunker down amongst the lockers to rest and open my pack. Jackpot! Inside, I find a coil of rope, a yellow canvas, an apple, a pack of corned beef and an empty canteen bottle. This I can work with!

I look out to the bathrooms perpendicular to my hiding place and see the water fountain at the entrance. I'll just fill up the canteen with that! Then, I stop. It's too easy a water source. Something tells me the fountains in this place are most likely broken. And even if they aren't, the water could be poisonous. This, as well as the echoes of other tributes throughout the school, keeps me in my spot.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM…. The Bloodbath must have ended. I count twelve cannons before I stop. Half gone. Pretty typical for any Games. Katniss lost 11 in her Bloodbath.

I see no signs of surviving tributes venturing anywhere near to my position, so I pass the time by munching on the apple so it does not go to waste. I savor the juice that comes out of each bite, not knowing if or when I'll get water again. I also think of Katniss. Is she proud that I survived the Bloodbath? Or is she mad that I survived, just waiting for my death? The shame washes over me anew, and it takes all of my efforts to not cry.

Night finally falls, and through a broken window, I can see the faces of the dead in the sky. Both tributes from 3 are first. Then I am in for a shock when both tributes from 4 follow. The girl from 5. The boy from 6 that I cut. The girl from 7. The girl from 8. The boy from 10. Both from 11. Delly from 12.

I sit and ponder the lost and my subsequent odds. It's rare for any Career, much less two, to die in the Bloodbath. But District 4 was on the weaker side of that pack this year, I watched them in training. The girl from 7 is a stunner - she had the potential to be lethal with her axes. And with Johanna Mason no doubt her mentor? I shudder with relief that I will never have to face her. I am relieved about District 11 being out - both tributes were my age and quite large; for the Careers to take them down is quite a feat. And Delly…. I mourn the loss of my childhood friend, but I am not surprised. She wasn't a killer, didn't have it in her. My only hope is that she went quickly. The rest of the dead were mostly on the weaker side, dead wood, like the District 6 boy I stabbed.

My thoughts linger on my remaining competition as I fall asleep.


	19. Chapter 19: School Shooter

**Chapter 19: School Shooter**

The peal of a bell jolts me awake the next morning. I am reminded of the ones back home that signaled us to change classes. Talk about an alarm.

As I stretch and ponder where I should go from here, I suddenly hear the sound of gunfire from down the hall. Then the crackle of an intercom:

"There is a shooter in the school! There's a shooting in progress! Everyone get down, this is not a drill!"

Another burst of gunfire gets me to my feet. I carefully dare to peer around the corner of the locker bay. In the distance, far down the hallway, I can see gray figures swinging their weapons about and periodically firing off rounds. Their backs are to me, but I squint enough to see that they are made of….

Metal. These are robots. A Gamemaker trap!

I retreat back into my locker bay and frantically try to think of a way out. There's the bathroom across from me, but if I try to run for it, the robot shooters might see me. And how safe would I be? Searching for an empty classroom might pose the same risks.

I hear another burst of gunfire and can tell the shooters are proceeding down the hallway towards me. I look all around and my eyes fall on an ajar locker. I get an idea.

I grab my supplies and proceed to stuff all of it and myself into the locker. It's a tight squeeze because of my muscles, but I've known nerdy kids in Twelve who were stuffed into one of these by bullies and they actually weren't much smaller than me. When everything is inside, I close the door. It bangs louder than I intended, and I pray the robots don't hear it.

Their footsteps increasing tells me they did.

I can hear them behind me as they pass the low dividing wall against which my locker lines. There is a burst of gunfire and it bounces of the metal across from me and directly above my head. I can hear them entering the bay and sequester myself in the farthest corner possible. My death could be moments away.

Through tiny slits in my door, I can see the metal profile of one shooting robot pass by. I hear it reach the end of the row, then double back. BANG! BANG! BANG! The bullets echo into the bathroom across the hall. I wait, holding my breath.

The robot moves out of sight. I can hear them moving away and out of the locker bay, then hear the creak and echoing slam of a door that tells me they've entered a stairwell somewhere near.

I have just let out my breath when I jump at a scream and yet another burst of ammunition. There's a cannon. Then, about five minutes later, more gunfire, more distant this time. Another cannon.

The hours pass agonizingly slowly, but I don't hear anything else of the shooters or other tributes. My mind wanders to whether I have done the stupidest stunt in Hunger Games history, locking myself into a locker. When the little light that penetrates the slats in my self-imposed prison dim, I hear the Panem anthem, and crane my eyes to try to get a glimpse of the dead.

My vision serves me just well enough to tell that the shooting victims are the girl from 6 and the boy from 8. Two other fairly weak tributes; like Twelve, neither district has produced many victors.

I decide to burrow for the night and wait until morning to figure out how to escape my locker. Besides, the remaining Careers might be out on the prowl tonight….


	20. Chapter 20: Great Chemistry

**Chapter 20: Great Chemistry**

The sunlight from the locker slats lets me know Day 3 has arrived. Time to break out of this locker. As I suspected, the thing is locked and can only be opened from the outside. Since I can't reach the padlock, I have no choice but to jimmy my broadsword's blade into the crack of the door and saw off the deadbolts. It takes a lot of work, but both eventually give way and I kick the door open.

I know one thing: I can't stay here. Any of the other nine tributes are bound to stumble over here eventually. Remembering the sound of the stairwell that had to be nearby, I decide to find it. I only need to exit the locker bay and round the corner to discover it. Entering as quietly as I can, I keep my sword in front of me as I proceed to the second floor.

Opening the door, I peek out ever so slightly and scan both ways before entering the hallway. I proceed at a cautious jog, passing another stairwell and locker bay before rounding a corner. The hallway beyond is deserted.

Suddenly, I trip over my own two feet and crash hard into the wall.

"What was that?" echoes a voice in the distance. "Come on, Durian, I think it came from this way!"

I barely have time to recall that Durian sounds like a District 7 name, meaning it must be the District 7 boy and an ally, before adrenaline shoots through me. I desperately move away from the footsteps approaching and go down the hall trying every door. All are locked. Finally, I jiggle one that is unlocked and I duck inside, closing it as softly and yet as quickly as I can. I can make out a desk in the dark to my right and dive under it.

The running footsteps draw nearer and nearer, before running right past me. I hear Durian shout to his ally, "Come on, this way!" before the footsteps thunder away and out of earshot.

I breathe another sigh of relief before standing. I grope my way back to the door and find the lock, turning it back into place and sealing myself inside. The Gamemakers and audience must be getting a real kick out of my tendency to lock myself in places, but it's a precaution. Especially when I turn on the lights.

I discover that I have stumbled into what looks like a Science classroom. Lining the back wall are a series of pentagonal tables with hard black surfaces. Beakers and other odds and ends occupy all of these stations. I approach and examine each one. I wonder: can any of this be useful?

All at once, several seemingly disparate thoughts - memories of science class in school, working in the bakery, explosions in the mines like the one that killed Katniss's father - congeal in my head. I smile. I was always good in science class. The mixtures we created in our labs sometimes didn't seem that much different from baking.

I know just what I have to do to keep myself a serious contender in these Games. And I know who my intended targets have to be. More relaxed since I entered the arena, I set to work.

* * *

It is afternoon by the time I am finished. Carefully leaving my science classroom sanctuary, I leave the door unlocked, just in case. Then, I begin to retrace my steps. Passing by what I now learn is the Sophomore locker bay, I spy the stairwell next to it and take a chance. I go down to find myself at the school lobby from the first day. I know where to go from here and quickly make my way back to the gym.

The door is ajar, so I slip inside and duck behind the nearest bleachers undetected. As I betted, there are the four Careers, guarding the Cornucopia.

My heart is pounding as I unzip my green backpack and pull out my two creations: homemade bombs. Lighting the fuse of the first, I take a deep breath and hurl it over the bleachers.

KABOOM! The explosion is deafening and I hear screams right away. As the smoke billows, I waste no time in readying and throwing the second. KABOOM!

More screams that soon die down into what sounds like one voice. Then the cannons.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

I curse. Damn! I just missed getting all four! The smoke billows until a piercing alarm is heard. All at once, sprinklers activate from the ceiling, drenching the gym in water. Between that and the smoke, I am given plenty of cover to duck out of the gym and sprint down the hallway, though I keep my tongue out to catch any falling droplets and thus quench my growing thirst. I duck into the first restroom I see.

Soon enough, I hear roars of anger and recognize the voice. I fight the urge to tremble. The one Career I wanted dead more than all the others, and he's the one who survived! Maximus won't show me any mercy when he finds me.

Suddenly, I hear raised voices.

"YOU!" Maxmius bellows, followed by a scream and then whimpers. "Thought you were clever setting off those bombs, huh?!"

"No, no, please!" and I can tell from the voice that it's the preteen boy from District 5. "It wasn't me!"

"LIAR!" There's a sickening CRACK from what I can only assume is Maximus banging the little boy's head into the wall or the floor or something. The cannon sounds.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to cry. That poor little boy, taking the fall for me. All because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Maxmius's heavy tread bypasses my bathroom hiding spot as he races away. Relieved and exhausted, I sink down the side of the bathroom stall I'm hiding in and fall asleep almost at once.


	21. Chapter 21: Eye of the Storm

**Chapter 21: Eye of the Storm**

I awaken to sunlight and conclude that it must be the morning of the fourth day. And there's another surprise awaiting me. A parachute! A gift from a sponsor! I dig it open eagerly and want to cry from joy. Not only is there a full canteen of water, but also a belt of throwing knives! Attached to the belt is a message:

 _Nice job with those homemade bombs. Gave us quite a show. You can do this, Peeta! ~ H._

I am a little disappointed that the message came from Haymitch and not from Katniss. I wonder how she reacted to my stunt with the Careers. Was she impressed? Surely she had to have been. Or is she still just waiting for the moment when my time runs out and I die? I sigh heavily.

I tell myself that my time might not run out, and I brighten a little. How many are left? I realize that with my kills and the slaying of the District 5 boy, we have blasted right past the Final 8. Six of us left. Maximus….Durian from 7…. both District 9 tributes…. the girl from 10…. and myself.

I could go home! The fear of facing Katniss if I do get out alive washes away as quickly as it appears, replaced by another thought: my father. He has lost the rest of his family to the Games. If he loses me too, he'll fall apart. It is with this reminder that I steel my resolve. I have to win! If not for Katniss, then at least for Dad.

Another alarm pierces my thoughts. Unlike the fire alarm from yesterday or the one that warned of the shooters, this one is long and low. Then, the intercom crackles to life.

"Tornado warning! Get to shelter! Find a desk and cover your heads!"

I am grateful for the alarm's explanation, yet annoyed at the same time. If all but one of us has to die, why give us the heads-up like this?

I know I can't stay in this bathroom if a Gamemaker tornado is coming; we had plenty of tornado drills in school to know not to be close to any windows. Remembering my science classroom upstairs, I stumble out of the restroom and make a sprint for the stairwell, ignoring how the wind is picking up through the building.

I encounter no one as I burst onto the second floor, round the corner beyond the Sophomore locker bay and dash down the hallway beyond. I spy my classroom, and thank my lucky stars that it is still unlocked before I dash inside. It doesn't remain unlocked for long.

I know the layout of the room well enough that I don't bother with the lights; it could attract too much attention. I crouch under one of the lab tables with its resistant black tops. Even though I am still in a room with windows, I can hope that if the tornado bursts them, the lab tables will protect me from falling glass.

That is, if the winds don't carry me away first. They are picking up even more now and are beginning to howl. I suddenly remember the coil of rope still in my green backpack. Yes! I snatch it out and proceed to lash myself against the lab table I am hiding under. For good measure, I throw the yellow canvas from my backpack over my head for protection.

The wind screams, and I feel the lab tables shake even though they are anchored to the floor. Shattering of glass as the windows are blasted open and I feel shards rain down on the canvas above me. I grit me teeth and close my eyes. _God, let me live…._

After what seems like hours, the wind dies down. I feel late afternoon sunlight pierce through the tarp and I open my eyes, removing the fabric.

The room is utterly destroyed except for the lab tables. Desks overturned, posters ripped partially in half off the walls. Only the lab tables are untouched.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Three cannons go off. I try not to bother postulating who it might have been, except I know it couldn't have been Maximus. He's too tough. That leaves him, me and one other lucky soul. Though I have the strangest feeling that the Gamemakers know who they want the final fight to be between. Maximus and me.

I begin to weep from exhaustion, hunger and fear. Oh, the injustice of it all! I hate it, these Hunger Games! I cry for Katniss and how my jealousy and pride drove her from me; I even vocally call her name.

Still blubbering, I wipe my eyes of tears to notice something sticking out from the wood of the lab table. Peering closer, I can make out the tiniest of lenses. A camera. I sniffle. I must look pitiful, but I decide to make an appeal to any sponsors still out there.

"I first met Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, when I was five years old," I begin. "It was the first day of school. She was wearing a little plaid red dress and her hair was in two braids instead of one." I pause for effect, knowing the audience must be hanging onto every word.

"My father pointed her out while we were waiting to line up. 'See that little girl?' he says to me. 'I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner.' Of course, being a boy of that age who still idolized my dad, I could not fathom how any woman would want a coal miner over him, and I told him so. 'Because when he sings, even the birds stop to listen' was the answer I received. Little did I know just how right he would be."

"Later that day in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the Valley Song. Katniss's hand shot right up into the air, and she was seated on a stool to sing it for us. Within the first few notes, every mockingjay outside the window fell silent. Right then, I knew - I was a goner. A prisoner of love just as I am a prisoner in this arena." My mention of the arena makes me start to well up again.

"I never did pluck up the courage to talk to her. And by the time of the Reaping two years ago, it was too late. I thought I might never see her again. So, when Katniss won, I made sure I was there with freshly baked bread every morning. Haunted by the arena as she was, I know it lifted her spirits - especially those delicious cheese buns I make."

The audience is surely laughing at that last bit. I sigh sadly, and feel my eyes well up again. But, then, a new emotion takes over: rage.

"I lost my mother and brothers in the Quarter Quell last year. Katniss lost her mom. All I could do was try to comfort her from her nightmares about the first tributes she mentored and couldn't save. We grew closer. Even when I was reaped this year and she mentored me, we grew closer."

The anger is burning in me now. "And then I threw it all away. The night before the arena, Katniss shared with me a secret by accident: she feared for how she would be auctioned off as a prostitute to the highest Capitol bidder. Jealous, yet extremely protective, I propositioned her. Everyone deserves to have their first time be with someone they love. Katniss refused. And what did I do? I forced myself onto her. I raped her! To save her, keep her virginity from some Capitol sleaze." I break down, speaking only to Katniss now. "I ruined any chance I had with you, and I can't even tell you now that I love you! I'm sorry!"

I am unaware of it as I lean against the lab table and sob, but back in the Mentor's Bar, all the victors' eyes are on Katniss. Even a stunned Haymitch. Katniss is blushing furiously at my declaration of love and guilt, tears rolling down her cheeks as she cries.

Back in the arena, I decide to give Katniss a gift to try and replace what I took from her, even if it isn't enough. I sing.

 _"Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow. Lay down your head and close your eyes. And when they open, the sun will rise…."_

I sing until I fall asleep, exhausted.


	22. Chapter 22: Peeta vs Maximus

**Chapter 22: Peeta vs. Maximus**

The fifth day passes uneventfully. I keep to my science classroom, and eat the last of my corned beef for dinner.

That night, I venture out into the halls, wondering if I will ever return to my little sanctuary. My sword is out and ready, though I doubt that I will run into either of my remaining competitors any time soon.

All at once, I jump at a girl's scream, followed by a cannon. The Panem anthem starts and I see the face of the girl from District 9. That means her partner, Durian and the girl from 10 died in the tornado.

I wheel around at the sound of a door being kicked open. Emerging from the stairwell is Maximus.

And he looks positively deranged.

Seeing me, he lets out a yell and charges. I turn tail and run into another stairwell. Realizing there are no stairs up, I nevertheless spy a ladder attached to the wall, and scramble up it. Maximus's heavy breathing enters the stairwell and I hear him grab onto the rungs.

There's a trapdoor at the top and I burst through it…. onto the school roof. I sprint to the edge and can see clearly there is no safe way down.

There's a bang as the trapdoor blasts open and out pops Maximus. I spin to face him and ready my sword. This is where it will be, then. I take a deep breath.

Maximus approaches slowly until he is a yard or two away. Then, without communicating, we begin to circle each other at the same time. Maximus snarls.

"I should have realized. The bombs…. mining…. that was you, wasn't it, Twelve?"

I smirk. "Very good. Though it wasn't thanks to mining. Call it science with a dash of baking. What, did you sleep through Science, Maximus?"

Maximus doesn't get as angry as I expected from my taunting. Indeed, he waves my verbal jab away. "Didn't need school. I had training to do. And it has all prepared me for this moment - killing you and leaving a Victor!"

"The only way you'll be leaving this arena is in a box, Maximus," I say confidently. The Career bursts out laughing.

"You really think you can win? You really think you'll go home to that? A District 12 Seam slut?"

"Don't call her that!" I snap. "Katniss is more pure than the likes of you!"

"I bet she is!" he chortles. "She certainly looks it. I'll give her your regards, Lover Boy. Oh, yes, I'll give them as I fuck her, nice and slow, ease my fingers into her pussy, feel her buck against my hand and moan for more…."

He motions with his hands, his face in a sneer, and I refrain from showing any emotion on my face. He's messing with my head, trying to psych me out, that's all he's doing. But there is one thing I have to understand….

"How do you know….?"

"What? That you _want_ her? I saw the way you looked at her, every day she came to get you after Training. Can't say I blame you. She's fine! Too fine for a talentless weakling like you. She'll appreciate me, the way I lick her, eat her out, hear her scream my name and not yours…."

Just such an image floods into my head unprompted and I find myself beginning to crack. The moment, I know, is seconds away and I am losing it.

"And you know what else, Lover Boy? She probably won't even remember you as I rape her."

And _that's_ where he makes a mistake. One word. Rape.

"NO!" I scream. I launch myself at Maximus, and he seems perturbed by my anger. I manage to bring him down in a tackle and we roll around on the gravel of the roof - biting, punching, kicking. I knock Maximus's sword away in the tussle, and we are both grappling for control of mine.

At last, with a strength I never knew I had, I throw my own sword out of reach before Maximus can get it away from me, flip us both over so I am now over him. Grabbing his skull, I bash it into the stone once, twice, three times. Maximus is dazed, staring at me in bewilderment and fear. I grope to retrieve my sword, now lying beside us even as I hold the Career down. Weapon in hand, I haul him to his feet.

"You aren't going to touch her, but you are going to feel this!" I slash him across the stomach and neck with my sword. His blood spatters me. With one last burst of anger, I shove Maximus off the edge of the roof.

CRACKLE! There's a sizzle and burst of electricity as Maximus's body hits the forcefield of the arena below. I turn my face away from the blinding blue light before collapsing onto the gravel at my feet. The last cannon booms and Claudius Templesmith comes over the intercom:

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winner of the 76th Annual Hunger Games: Peeta Mellark of District 12!"


	23. Chapter 23: At Last

**Chapter 23: At Last**

The next day or so is a blur. I am extracted from the arena and my prep team readies me for my Victory celebrations. Except for cuts, bruises and bites from my fight with Maximus, I leave the arena physically unscathed.

It is my mind that refuses to heal, the terror I possess at seeing Katniss again for the first time since I raped her.

All too soon, it is time for my interview with Caesar. Effie is introduced, then Portia, then - to great roars - Katniss and Haymitch. They are placed in the front row.

I finally come out from backstage to screams and applause, seeing my team in the front row. Suddenly, Katniss stands from her chair, an intense look in her eyes. Before the Peacekeepers can stop her, she rushes the stage. I brace myself for a slap, punch, screams of anger at my temerity for coming back alive.

"Katniss? What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago!" she gets out.

I brace for a punch. But instead, I get…..

A kiss. Her lips crash into mine. Whoa. _I. Am. Kissing. Katniss Everdeen._

Her mouth slides against mine desperately. When her tongue probes, I don't hesitate to open up to her and she plunges her tongue deep into my throat. Eyes closed, I find her waist and pull her to me. My growing erection gives a violent twitch as I feel her, hear her, moan into my mouth. "Hmmmm…."

I smile against her lips and, picking her up, I spin her about in my arms. Katniss clutches herself to me tightly, her lips curving into a triumphant smile against my own. Believe me, I know the same feeling. She moans for me, and no one else! Especially not that monster Maximus!

It is bedlam in the audience now, but I barely hear the cheers and roars of approval. I can only concentrate on the woman in my arms. I feel a tap on my shoulder and hear Caesar's voice, far, far away. Without thinking, I shove him aside and press my lips further against Katniss's, deepening the kiss. The audience goes berserk, eating it up.

I slam Katniss back into the Victor's Throne where I am to watch the recap of my Games; we are full-blown making out now. I spring away from her lips and begin to kiss all the way down her face, her chin, and into the soft, creamy curve of her neck. She arches into my touch, eyes wide, trying not to let out an embarrassing moan.

"Caes…..Caesar! Your interview!" she gasps, trying to remind me what still has to be done. I place a love bite into her neck and she gives a tiny yelp that I find incredibly sexy.

"Ignore them," I hiss huskily, growling almost with anger at how I will eventually have to be interrupted from this. "Ignore them all! This is _our_ moment, damnit!" Katniss mewls a whimper in response that makes me weak in the knees and our lips find each other's again.

After what seems like days, we break apart. And there is no better sight than the one I hold in my eyes right then: Katniss's smile. It's a smile I hope to treasure for the rest of my life.

"God, I love you!" I breathe.

"I know," she responds quietly before giving me another kiss, chaste this time. I have to do my interview, but I am reluctant to let her go. She returns to her seat and I head for Caesar, wanting this interview to end as soon as possible.

* * *

Later, I am starting to wish that interview went on for a few more hours, at least.

I am on the Twelfth floor of the Training Center with Katniss and Haymitch beside me.

"Listen up. You're in trouble. You should not have let slip about the prostitution. There was a debate amongst the Gamemakers to kill you off right then and there, but the audience wouldn't have it. Then, when you didn't fall to Maximus…. well, they had to stick with you." Haymitch breaks it down.

"Well, I'm sorry I pulled the mask off their little charade," I say sarcastically, even though I'm not sorry at all. In fact, I am defiant and pleased that I have shown them up. Haymitch slams a hand down on the table.

"Peeta! This is serious! The Capitol hates it when tributes make them look foolish in the arena. Take it from someone who knows." Before I can ask for details, I try to wave his worry off.

"Snow can't hurt me. My family's all dead."

"What about your dad?" Haymitch presses. I freeze. I had completely forgotten about him. "Or her?" He points to Katniss and now my heart really stops.

"He wouldn't. She's a victor!"

"Oh yeah? Just try him. Now, I can keep you both somewhat safe with this whole Star-Crossed Lovers act…"

"It's not an act," Katniss interjects. "We _are_ in love." Her words, and the way she takes my hand, warm my heart.

"Real or not real, Snow can still use you two and bend you to his will. You may have revealed his sex enterprise, Peeta, but get the hell ready. It won't just shut down. And you'll be the first one he puts up to the highest bidder. Katniss, too. He couldn't give her away these Games because of your stunt. But that was all you did. Buy her a year's-worth of time. Be ready: both of you, but you especially, boy. There will be repercussions."

He sends us away to bed, nursing a bottle of alcohol almost sadly.


	24. Chapter 24: Rest of Our Lives

**Chapter 24: Rest of Our Lives**

We have just finished making love in Katniss's bed (completely consensual this time!). Wriggling under the sheets and laughing, I find myself on top of her as I kiss and lick at her face everywhere, like a hungry puppy. Her giggle is as melodious as the music that plays softly and sweetly around us.

 _"If I never knew you, if I never felt this love…."_

My kisses slow as I find my thoughts wandering elsewhere. I hear Katniss whimper and coo underneath me, and I force myself to look at her for the hard conversation that must happen.

"Katniss….."

"Yes?"

"….I'm sorry I raped you when you didn't want me."

She looks at me sadly, pained as much as I am by the memory, and glances away. "I know why you did," she admits softly. "You were just trying to protect me."

I sigh. "Well, with Snow on our tails, I guess this is a one-time thing?"

Katniss fumes, tears threatening her eyes. "Oh, that stupid prostitution! This isn't fair!" She glances back to me. "I love you."

She nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck. Leaning back after a moment, I kiss her lips tenderly. She's smiling, eyes shining with tears as we break apart.

"I knew it was you, from the minute you threw that bread to me when we were eleven. I was just too blind to see that it was love."

I smile a winning smile down at her. After all that, and she is mine. "God, I love you, Girl on Fire." A pause and then: "Will you marry me?"

Katniss gasps, then the biggest grin takes over her face.

"Yes! Oh, yes, Peeta!"

Finding some cord on the nightstand, I wrap it around her finger. Katniss giggles through the tears that are now spilling down her cheeks unabated. "Until I can buy a proper ring," I explain. We kiss again happily, when Katniss suddenly starts.

"Wait! What about Primrose?"

"Primrose? I would never leave Primrose!" I vow. "We'll raise her together. She can come live with us!"

"Your father, too!" Katniss urges.

"Well, we'll see," I chuckle. "He may want to stay in our loft above the bakery, but we can always set aside a guest room for him in Victor's Village."

* * *

Finally, we return to District 12. My neighbors are proud that we have produced another victor, especially only two years after Katniss's victory. We are all given free food and rations for the next year.

I move into my new house in the Victor's Village. A few weeks later, Katniss and Prim join me. Then, Katniss and I make it official by marrying in the Justice Building and having our own toasting. The Capitol insists they film the wedding and broadcast it live, and we indulge them, hoping against hope that our complacency may sooth Snow's anger at us.

My father remains in the Mellark Bakery, but he visits us often, staying the night in a guest room reserved just for him. While watching my Games, he and Prim became quite close and they have a sweet bond.

I am happy as I can possibly be. But I know it won't last. When Katniss, Haymitch and I go on my Victory Tour, and then return for the Games next year, I know punishment will await me. But when I look into my wife's eyes, I feel something I have not felt in so long: hope. The hope that, whatever happens, Katniss and I can get through this together.


	25. Chapter 25: No More Reapings

**Chapter 25: No More Reapings**

It's a couple of years before the districts decide to rise up.

Three years in fact. After a heart-stopping end to the 79th Games, the districts rebel, having had enough of Capitol tyranny. Katniss, Haymitch and I escape with my Dad and Prim to District 13, long thought dead. Many of our fellow victors are not so fortunate.

Together, Katniss and I lead a rebellion that overthrows the Capitol and installs a constitutional democracy. The Hunger Games are abolished forever.

* * *

Apparently, it doesn't matter if I simply doze off in the middle of the day while watching my toddler daughter, Clementine, play in the Meadow that is our backyard. The nightmares still come. This one, which features some horrors from my own Games, is actually a rare occurrence; usually I have nightmares about Katniss's Games. And even then, she does enough nightmaring (is that a word? No, it probably isn't; I'll have to ask Prim, my schoolteacher sister-in-law) for the two of us.

I quickly compose myself from where I have sat up almost in a cold sweat. Thankfully, Clementine does not seem to notice my distress. I also think to praise Mondays off, when my Dad takes over the bakery I inherited from him and now run. He's been phasing out the last eighteen months or so; soon, the old man will be blissfully retired, worried about nothing but spoiling his grandchildren rotten.

"Clementine!" I call. "Come inside; Mommy almost has supper ready!" Her blonde curls – my color blonde – bounce behind her as she runs to me and I scoop her up in my arms and carry her inside. I set her down just inside the door and she scampers to the table.

This. _This_ is the sight I live for: my wife of nearly 20 years, Katniss, finishing the last touches on our dinner, even as she rocks our infant son, Eric, in her arms. Super Mom is not a strong enough superlative for her.

I can just make out what she is cooing to our tiny baby, her eyes full of a love that she reserves only for her family, but especially for me.

"Ssssh…..sssssh….." she coos, tickling Eric's chin. She has the most adorable grin as she asks him, "Did you have a nightmare just now?"

Her back is to me, so she doesn't see me. I lean against the doorframe, grinning like a lovesick idiot, not really minding if she catches me staring.

"I have nightmares, too," my beloved admits. "Some day I'll explain it to you. Why they came, why they won't ever go away."

 _And so will I_ , I think somberly now, the grin on my face morphing slightly to add just a hint of wistful sadness. _And so will we all_. Even Haymitch will – the old geezer! – though it may take some convincing from me, arm-twisting from Katniss.

"But I'll tell you how I survive it," Katniss whispers to our baby. "I make a list in my head, of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game. I do it over and over. It gets a little tedious after all these years, but…. there are much worse Games."

 _Games that you and Clementine will never know_ , I vow. I saunter up behind her and take her in my arms from behind, my hands about her abdomen. She sighs and leans into my frame as I kiss along her neck and face before finally capturing her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. We break apart tenderly, smiling softly into each other's eyes. Katniss's pupils are shining with unshed tears.

"Our babies will never know pain the way that we knew it," I promise my wife. "That's practically a given, with you as their mother: the most sweet" - _kiss_ \- "caring," - _kiss_ \- "beautiful woman, _person_ I have ever known."

"Hmmmm…" Katniss smiles happily. She glances down at our youngest child with adoration in her eyes. "And they'll both take after their brave, handsome father."

I chuckle. "Your compliments flatter me, Mrs. Mellark."

She turns and kisses me passionately. "Say my name again," she whispers against my lips as we start to break apart. "Hearing it makes me feel like I'm yours."

I grin. "As you wish, _Mrs. Mellark_."

And together, we join our daughter at the dinner table to continue our peaceful life – a life well earned.

* * *

*** _I see my wife as a teenager, climbing up the side of the great metal horn, the mutts at her heels but thankfully just missing her. I am startled to notice that she is alone; Gale's not with her. When she reaches the top, she barely has time to catch her breath before Cato surprises her, attacking her from behind. He gets her bow out of her reach quickly, and Katniss can only dodge his attempted blows with his sword. Soon, she is crab-crawling back away from him, as Cato - even though he's now without a weapon - looms over her. She backs away as he reaches down for her legs, his smile leering, and I realize with horror that he intends to have a little fun with her first before he kills her._

 _" **This is the last time you will interfere with my plans, Katniss Everdeen! Who will save you now, Katniss? Who?** " he taunts. _

_Suddenly, I witness a dejavu moment, as I see my 16-year-old self swing in out of nowhere, hanging onto the end of what looks like a construction crane. Cato barely has time to reel in horror before, my face contorted in determined rage, I kick out and hit him square in the gut. Cato plummets off the Cornucopia to the waiting mutts below, as I drop to the gun-metal gray surface of the horn. Meanwhile, the commotion knocked Katniss towards the edge herself and she begins to flail. I desperately seize her by the hand, and pull her to her feet and safety, until our faces and bodies are inches apart, my hands about her waist. We hug, before looking down at Cato's bloody end, still holding each other close. After several agonizing minutes, the cannon sounds for his death._

 _We look into each other's eyes for a moment, but the peace of it is shattered as suddenly as the metal that crumbles abnormally beneath my feet, sending me plunging to the grassy earth where the mutts once were. I hit hard and feel something combust inside me. That's it. I know I'm dying._

 _Katniss somehow manages to scramble down the Cornucopia safely and rush to my side. Already crying, she is trying to heal my wounds. I oddly crack a grin._

 _" **Remember, we're madly in love, so feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.** " Katniss lets out a choked laugh that quickly dissolves into heaving sobs. I, meanwhile, have no idea what my younger self is even doing here in the arena, or what he is talking about. His words almost imply that we are faking our love for the arena. The thought sends a stab through my heart. And does this also mean that Katniss and I have never kissed yet?_

 _It would seem so, for Katniss looks down at me with something that resembles pity. I don't want pity; all I want is her love!_

 _" **Katniss...I..."**_

 _" **Yes?"** she weeps. _

_" **...I love you.** "_

 _She stares at me for a moment. Then, she suddenly bends down and gives me the sweetest, softest kiss imaginable, right on my lips. Far, far away, I can hear the cannon boom, signaling my own death. And as the sound fades away on the wind, Katniss's lips draw back from mine._

 _I feel myself slipping away. I don't want to die! I want to stay with her! No, no, NO!_

* * *

"No, no, NOOOO!" I cry and my fate seems even more cruel when I can hear Katniss's voice.

"Peeta? Baby? Wake up, you're scaring me!"

I jolt awake, in a cold sweat. I am not dead. I am in my own room, clutching the sheets, the sheets of my bed. Of Katniss's and my bed. And there she is. My beautiful wife, sitting up and staring at me with a look of pure fright on her face. It soon morphs into gentle sympathy when she sees I have satisfactorily returned to the conscious world.

"Honey, what happened? You were saying awful things in your sleep. What did you see?"

I tell her my dream: about saving her from Cato, about the Cornucopia collapsing under my feet. The implication we were in the arena together and our love was fake. Dying. By the time I finish, Katniss's eyes are glassy with tears. Pure sympathy and love radiates from her face. She reaches over to me. "Oh Peeta..."

Then she is kissing me everywhere: my eyelids, my face, my hair, my lips, my ears. She gently lowers me back into the covers as she continues her worship of me. Between kisses, she pants out the only other medicine that is just as effective for moments like this; Haymitch invented it, and we now play it often to help us cope with the past:

"You were in the arena with me: Real or Not Real?"

I shake my head, and she giggles when she misses my lips and kisses my cheek clumsily instead. "Not Real."

"You and I are married; husband and wife: Real or Not Real?"

I grin deliriously at the thought that this woman is mine. "Real."

"We have two beautiful babies together: Real or Not Real?"

My grin becomes rather naughty and I growl out, "Real."

Katniss notices my husky behavior and eyes me, swatting my arm as if to say, _Behave_. Then neither of us can take it anymore and we laugh. Katniss smiles at me, but her eyes are still filled with tears.

"I will _die_ _,"_ she vows, her voice cracking with emotion, "before any one takes you from me. In any way. I love you, Peeta." She resumes kissing me every place that she can reach. "My Boy with the Bread. My Dandelion in the Spring. My Precious One."

I smirk. "You know, you're gonna need a database to keep track of all the pet nicknames you have for me." Unlike most other times, Katniss doesn't seem to notice my teasing.

"Only because there are so many wonderful ways to describe you, my love." She stops the kissing and looks down at me, her face and eyes sad, though she smiles. "I was such a fool. Why didn't I realize I was in love with you? I should have gone after you sooner."

I shake my head and grin. "It wasn't your fault. If anyone took their time in wooing the other, it was me. We never even spoke until we were 16. Besides, you didn't really know me back then. It may have looked weird for you to say, 'Hey, remember me? You threw me bread when we were kids together, will you marry me?' I should have taken action right after you gave me an erection when you sang in music assembly the very first day of school."

My wife giggles: a beauty of a sound when heard. "My singing _aroused_ you at five years old?"

Even though it shouldn't matter, I blush anyway. "I had no idea what it was or what it meant. I just knew I wanted to...be with you. I couldn't put it into words then."

"But you _did_ end up with me. The night..."

"...that you sucked me off until I came in your mouth. After my last interview with Caesar. Our first time alone together."

Katniss looks away, her face flushing, but her eyes now pained. I know what she's thinking. That's not exactly true - our first time alone together. I know she is remembering the rape the night before I left for the arena. Even today, it brings me shame, us both shame - though she forgave me long ago and understands that I did what I did out of love for her and the desire to protect her. That's why we technically don't consider the rape our first time together, and never speak of it, except for the occasional moment when Katniss will vaguely refer to it as "the moment that _made_ me love you."

I turn her chin so that she faces me. We look into each other's eyes and she smiles. Then she abruptly pushes me flat on my back and deftly straddles me. "Let's make love," and her voice hisses in my ear, tickling it. "After two kids, I may not be what I used to be in bed, but..."

I gawk at her, unable to even fathom what she means. "You could never lose your touch, sweetheart. You're still the Girl on Fire."

And so she is, lighting us both up while we make love until the morning light.

* * *

 _For every stoplight I didn't make_

 _Every chance I did or I didn't take_

 _All the nights I went too far_

 _All the girls that broke my heart_

 _All the doors that I had to close_

 _All the things I knew but I didn't know_

 _Thank God for all I missed_

 _Cause it led me here to_

 _This_

~ Darius Rucker

* * *

 **A/N: And that's all folks! In case you were wondering, the early part of the nightmare, with Peeta swinging from a crane was based on a scene in _The Jewel of the Nile_ with Michael Douglas. Just thought I'd point that out.**


End file.
